A Race Against Time
by SnowFlake201595
Summary: Cornelius makes a hard decision that causes time to be of the essence. A single clue given holds the life of his wife in its words. Can the high-tech genius figure out the clue, with Wilbur's help, or will Franny become the object of hate from his horrid decision?
1. Preface

Preface

 _Unknown: Monday, August 24th, 2037_

 **T** he drummed beat against her skull is the cause of her eyes to flutter open. A groan was let past her parted pink lips. When her eyes finally opened she couldn't see anything, for her eyes seemed to spin in circles. She forced her eyelids to close and open several times before her focus returned. That's when she realized that she was nowhere near her family.

She had woken up in a dimly lit room. She looked up above her sore head to see the only light came from a single ceiling lamp. The lamp is held up by a thin metal cord, but it was barely together. A single red wire was what kept the lamp connected to the ceiling; though the light shouldn't have been working. Over the single bulb was a metal dome, which caused the light to only shine down on her; keeping her from seeing anything else that resided in the room.

A sudden ache hit her head, and she looked away from the light. She went to rub her temples to sooth her pain, but her hands refused to move.

 _'Wha-?'_ She turned her upper body to look behind her.

Her hands were tied together with an old rope around the chair, which was falling apart, she sat upon. She started to stand up to see if she could lift her arms over the back of the chair, but that is when she noticed her ankles were tied to each leg in the front of the chair.

Feeling a sense of uneasy creep along her spine, she began to wiggle her wrists to try and work the knot loose. A few grunts and groans leave her mouth with each attempt. After a minute or two of her struggle the only achievement she gained was rubbing her skin raw under the rope.

Grunting in frustration, she slumped back against the chair. A _creak_ moaned from the chair when she did. Her mind searched for an answer. An answer to her single question.

 _'What the hell is going on?'_


	2. Chapter One

**Okay, so I was hoping to get the first chapter up yesterday, but it became longer than I thought. Once I started writing, I couldn't stop. I think it turned out alright. Nothing to exciting really happens within this chapter, but it is only the first. But I hope you enjoy reading, as I will writing it.**

* * *

Chapter One  
Franny

 _Todayland: Tuesday, August 18th, 2037  
A Week Ago…_

 **W** ind howled like the horn of Aunt Billie's train that night.

Franny, rested on her left side facing the wall made of window, was awake. Her back was to the bedroom door. The bedroom she shared with her beloved husband, who at the moment, was not laid snuggled up to her back.

She took her eyes away from the rain that pelted against the glass, to the clock that rested on her night stand. Her fingers reached out to press the flat screen to display the time. A flash of blue numbers appeared.

Two-thirteen a.m.

Franny sighed softly to herself. She decided to give up on trying to sleep. The storm caused to much noise for her scattered brain to calm. She pushed the comforter and sheet off her body, allowing her to swing her feet over the edge and stand. She stretched her arms up above her head then lowered them back down. Her legs tingled when her silk, bubble-like night dress brushed around her as she stated to move. Lightning shot from the clouds in a funky zigzag to the ground. The dark room lit up for the few seconds it lasted. The roll of thunder not far behind.

Franny opened the door and slipped out into the hall.

The house was quiet as she walked through the hall. Being this quiet was not a regular thing. The Robinson Mansion, her home, was always buzzed with noise. Whether it was from her brother Gaston shooting himself out of his cannon to the desired target, to her son Wilbur racing around the house playing with his chargeball glove; even after the many warnings she had given him about hitting his family members with the electric charge. Franny couldn't help but smile at the thought of her son.

Her bare feet caused no sound. On her walk to the stairs, she passed by several rooms. Her mother and father-in-law lay across the hall from Uncle Joe and Aunt Billie's room. Art's room is on the same wall as Bud and Lucille. Her eldest brother, Gaston is across from Art. Each room was separated from the other, so no one was right next to the other. Her and Cornelius' bedroom rested at the end of the hall in the middle. Her Uncle Fritz and Aunt Petunia, along with their two children Laszlo and Tallulah, rested on the other side of the house.

Franny placed her hand on the white, smooth railing to the staircase and made her way down to the first floor. Another flash of light illuminated the room as thunder shook the circle windows on the first floor hall that Franny turned down.

Wilbur's room was the only one on the first floor. When he turned eight, he begged his mom for this room. Going on and on about how the one wall was perfect for his chargeball game. After weeks of his constant begging and convincing, Franny and Cornelius gave into his big brown eyes. Franny stopped in front of Wilbur's door. With another clap of thunder, she stepped inside to check on him. Something she hadn't done since he turned ten and he told her he was too old for her to come tuck him in.

She looked around the rather large room. Chargeball was everywhere; along with all his dirty clothing.

' _No wonder he never has any clean socks.'  
_

Franny looked up at the balcony where Wilbur had them place his bed. Franny smiled at her son who was fast asleep. Wilbur was asleep on the wrong end of the bed. His head rested at the foot of the bed, and his left arm dangled to the floor. All four of his pillows rested on the floor around his bed. His chargeball comforter lay halfway over his body and halfway on the floor.

With a shake of her head, Franny left to go back into the hall. She closed the door to his bedroom, and walked back into the front room. The kitchen was on the front right side of the house; depending on which way you came into the family room. Through the front doors of the home, the kitchen would be on the left. After you came through the entry hall.

The Robinson kitchen gave off its own light from under the counter tops. Her husband's idea, since he had found her countless times sitting in the dark on the many stools at the bar. Something Franny had planned to do right then.

She reached up to the cabinet and pushed it to make it open. Grabbed the tea pot from the bottom shelf, she closed the cabinet and filled the pot up with water. Once it was filled she turned from the sink to place the pot on the burner, which turned on upon the contact. Adjusting to the right temperature.

Franny leans on the counter while the water began the process of heating up. Her gaze moved back to the window to see the storm had gotten worse. The rain seemed to beat harder. Lightning cast her form in a glow. Franny began to smile as she remembered a date Cornelius worked so hard to plan for her until the rain happened.

* * *

" **C** ornelius?" _Franny called while she walked through the park in the middle of Todayland. The street lamps lit her way as she walked further into the lush green park. She was given no answer to her spoken question.  
_

 _Franny held the piece of paper she had found on their bed, telling her to meet at the park for a surprise. She read the clue he gave her to find his location.  
_

' _Where the fireflies sing and the Willow tree dances.' Franny paused to think. Then it suddenly clicked.  
_

 _She raced off toward the center of the park to find the bridge going over the lake. She walked up the ramp to get to the highest point of the wooden bridge. He stood there. Leaned over the rail; looked up at the empty canvas of the sky.  
_

 _Not able to keep a smile from her lips, Franny walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder to let him know of her presence. When he turned to look at her, he smiled big. He smiled at her with his goofy grin, and pushed his glasses back up his nose. Cornelius reached behind Franny and placed his hand around her waist. With his other hand, he reached up to brush his fingers against her cheek. Franny closed her eyes; enjoyed the feel of her husband's rough, but warm fingers against her smooth, fair skin.  
_

"I was starting to worry you weren't coming." _He spoke in his deep, but soothing voice.  
_

 _Franny opened her eyes to look up at him. She grabbed his hand from her cheek and enclosed it within both of hers._ "Hm, you didn't really give me a specific location to meet you." _  
_

"I thought the clue I gave you was pretty straight forward."

"To you, yes." _Franny laughed._ "So what is this surprise?" _  
_

 _Cornelius took his hand from her grasp, still holding her waist, and held out his free hand to guide her in the direction he wanted her to go. Franny and Cornelius walked side by side until they reached the end of the bridge.  
_

 _Cornelius stopped them suddenly and stood behind Franny, covered her eyes with his large hands.  
_

"Whoa," _Franny exclaimed._ "what are you doing?" _  
_

"Keeping the surprise a surprise. Let me be your eyes and follow my direction." _He spoke in her ear then kissed her cheek. She could feel the heat from the blush that pooled under the skin of her cheeks._ "Now, walk forward." _  
_

 _With her arms held out in front of her, she started to walk in the direction her husband whispered in her ear. They walked like this for a few minutes before he stopped her.  
_

"Okay. Are you ready for the surprise?" _She nodded her head, and sudden nerves grew inside her stomach like butterflies. After a deep intake of breath, he removed his hands that covered her eyes.  
_

 _Franny blinked a few times to focus her vision. When she could see properly, she could see something beautiful.  
_

 _A single white sheet rested in front of the willow tree. Four white candles had been placed at each corner, and the flames swayed when the light breeze swung around them. Placed in the middle of the sheet is a single basket, plates, two glasses, and flowers. Franny gasped and placed a hand over her mouth. All around them sudden blinks of light flashed on and off.  
_

"You remembered." _Franny spoke quietly, not taking her eyes off the surprise her husband put together for her._ "I didn't think you would remember since you've been in your lab for the past three days." _  
_

 _Cornelius placed his hands on her shoulders, and pulled her towards him so her back touched his chest. Franny reached up and placed a hand over one of his. For the longest time he didn't say anything. They stayed like that until he smacked his lips.  
_

"I was in my lab planning this. I thought it was a good idea. A good way to keep this secret from you and everyone else. Knowing my family if they found out they wouldn't be able to keep it to themselves long." _Cornelius chuckled._ "And you hardly go in my lab when the doors are closed. Considering what happened the last and first time you did." _  
_

 _Franny smiled._ "Yeah, it took me weeks to get that stuff off." _  
_

 _Cornelius walked around her and started to lead her towards the dinner he prepared. They sat down on the sheet next to the basket. The sweet smell of Aster's filled her nose when she breathed in. In a vase were assorted Aster's; blue, violet, and indigo. Her favorite flower.  
_

 _Franny reached out and picked up a violet one and placed it under her nose. She sniffed.  
_

"When it comes to you Franny," _Cornelius took the flower from her hand, broke most of the steam off, and reached to place the flower behind her ear,_ "you will always come first in everything." _  
_

 _Franny felt her body relax. Her heart skipped a beat.  
_

 _Cornelius placed a glass, filled with a sparkling white wine, in her hand._ "Do you remember?" _  
_

 _Franny looked confused at her husband for a few seconds, until she saw he had the wine label hidden from her. He wanted her to taste it and see if she could remember when she last drank a specific kind?  
_

'Alright.' _Franny thought.  
_

 _She brought the glass rim to her lips and took a drink. The aroma smelled very familiar to her. A smell of fresh apples. The cooled liquid slid down her throat and she thought a moment.  
_

'Where have I tasted this before?' _She grabbed her chin with her thumb and index finger as she thought._ 'We don't drink wine all that often. Only when we are celebrating. His birthday? No. Can't be Thanksgiving Diner because we all drink red wine.' _  
_

 _Franny was so focused on trying to figure out where she had tasted the wine before, and Cornelius had his eyes locked on her, that neither of them realized a few rain drops began to fall.  
_

'Christmas is mostly apple cider.' _She continued to think.  
_

 _The couple was brought back when the light rain became a down poor. Franny gasped and dropped her glass of wine on the sheet. Cornelius looked up at the sky; shocked. He quickly jumped up, his blue shirt soaked to his skin, grabbed Franny's hand, and pulled her up. He started to pull her into a run to look for someplace dry. Franny moved her legs to keep up with Cornelius. Her nude heels sunk into the wet grass, and the skirt of her yellow dress swung around her legs.  
_

 _She looked around to help find somewhere to go. Not far from them was a pavilion. Five street lamps circled it and casted it in a warm sunlight glow. Franny tightened her grip on her husband and pulled them towards it. Both skidded to a stop once they were safely under the roof.  
_

"Ah, I'm so sorry Franny. I wasn't expecting it to rain. I ruined everything." _Cornelius hung his head low as he took his glasses off to wipe the rain drops off on a dry spot of his shirt.  
_

 _Franny took off her shoes and held them by the heel. She looked at him.  
_

"You didn't." _His head snapped up to look at the smile that was on her face._

 _Franny was soaked to the bone. Her yellow bubble-like dress clinging to her curves. The material almost see-through. Her skirt held a funky design, but most of her dresses did. Her hair had fallen loose from her white ribbon she held her bun up with. He walked up to her and moved her hair from her face. She felt the flower he had placed behind her ear was still there.  
_

"How could I not have? I spent so long on planning this for you, and I didn't stop to think about it possibly raining."

"Our wedding." _Franny said. Cornelius looked down at her utterly confused._ "That's the wine you gave me. Riesling. We had that wine at our wedding. And this?" _She referred to where they stood._ "This is where we shared our first kiss as husband," _Franny wrapped her arms around his neck loosely, standing on her toes._ "and wife." _  
_

 _He smiled at her, and took her in his arms._ "Happy one ye-"

* * *

The sound of a loud whistle broke her from her day dream.

Franny gasped and quickly raced to remove the pot from the burner, so the noise would stop. It was around three a.m. and she didn't want to wake anyone else. She poured the desired amount of boiling water into her mug, placed the pot on a mat, and grabbed a tea bag. Her favorite. Green Tea. She brought her items around to the seat and placed the bag into the water. Letting it sit for a few seconds. Used a spoon to fish the bag out when she was done with it, then placed it on the counter top before her. Franny slowly drank her hot tea.

The house remained quiet, not counting the rain, and she felt slightly on edge. She would never get use to the house being silent as the grave. With her tea almost finished she stood from her stool, and went to go around the counter to put her cup away, when a shadow crossed her vision. Her tracks stopped instantly. She waited for what seemed like hours for more movement, but it was only a few seconds before the shadow came again. To her the shadow grew closer.

Franny quickly grabbed the nearest thing to her, which happened to be a jar filled with sugar, and pressed her body against the wall. Footsteps could finally be heard coming from down the hall. As they grew closer, Franny raised the jar ready to whack it into the intruder.

When the figure came into her sight Franny swung, and hit her target. The jar smashed into pieces that flew across the room. The contents spilled out onto the floor, and a thud was heard followed by an _"OW!"  
_

Franny gasped and removed her scowl when she saw who she hit.

Carl was sat on the marble flooring. Sugar was spilled all around him. He shook his head from side to side then looked up at his attacker.

"Oh, Carl!" Franny bent down on her knees to check him over, even though Carl was a robot and couldn't really be hurt by a jar of sugar. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm right as rain." Carl and Franny both stood up on their feet. "Why did you come after me with a jar? Now I have to clean this mess up."

"I'm so sorry. I wasn't expecting anyone else to be up, so I was a little jumpy." Franny explained.

"I'm a robot, I don't really sleep. I was going to the lab to see if Cornelius needed anything-"

"Wait!" Franny cut Carl off. "Cornelius is still in the lab? I assumed he wasn't here."

Carl blinked at her with his blue eyes, before he spoke again. "Yeah, he said something about paper work that needed to be filed before the morning."

Franny walked up to Carl and kissed his cheek, and smiled at him. "Thank you, Carl."

Before Carl could ask her _'what for'_ she was already headed down the hall to the lab.

"I swear he is going to kill himself with how much he works." She mumbled to herself.

The door to the lab was at the end of the hall on the first floor; same hall as Wilbur's bedroom. Her bare feet padded along the floor, until she reached the double doors. Pushed one open slightly, she slipped her body through, left the door cracked, and began her climb up the three small sets of stairs. When she finally reached the top, she looked around to find him.

Franny spotted Cornelius bent over his desk with a single sheet of paper in his hand, but many others stacked on his desk beside him. A single desk lamp rested over him so he could read the words written.

As Franny made her way over to him, he did not move a muscle. He may not have heard her approach toward him because when he was in deep concentration he doesn't hear anything.

"Cornelius?" Franny asked.

His body suddenly jumped from his chair and he whirled around to face her. His bright blue eyes gazed into her brown ones. Franny noticed his eyes held bags from the lack of sleep and his posture was rolled over. She shook her head and walked up to him.

"You need rest."

"I will, I will." He smiled sleepily at her. "I just have to finish this first."

"It is past three in the morning. You can finish that later." Franny grabbed his hand. "Even super tech-geniuses need their sleep. Without it you can't function."

She heard him chuckle. "I know you are right, Franny."

"Of course. I am always right." She smiled. "Now come on. Your wife needs her husband in bed with her. The storm is keeping her up."

"Alright, alright."

Both headed for the stairs to exit his lab.

Cornelius wrapped his arm around her and gave her a kiss on the top of her head.


	3. Vengeance

Vengeance

 _Todayland: Tuesday, August 18th, 2037_

 **T** here is no doubt.

' _That must be her.'_ I think. _'She is the only one who fits the picture.'  
_

My eyes follow her form while she walks down the stairs. Loving the way her dress hugs her body. I keep hidden behind the round bush that rests next to the large window in the kitchen. I wait for her to come closer, but she heads down the hall to the right.

' _No!'_ I growl to myself. _'Where is she going?'  
_

The storm around me seems to be getting worse, being soaked to the bone already, I do not really care. I wait. She has to come back this way, right? It's too early for anyone else to be awake. So I wonder where she is going at this time of night.

' _She's back!'  
_

I watch her flow into the kitchen with grace, and gets a cup of tea ready for herself.

' _She does everything perfectly. How did she end up with_ him _?'  
_

My eyes widen when I notice she is looking right at me. I creep further behind the bush. Hoping she didn't spot me. When I look back at her, she is still staring out the window. She must be thinking. What would she be thinking of? Her son? Her husband? The thought of her thinking of him makes my blood boil. My thoughts go back to the dreadful night that changed my life, and how he caused all the pain. Threats of tears peck at my eyes, but I shake my thoughts away.

' _NO! No more tears over the subject.'_ I scold myself. _'Now is the time for action.'  
_

I will make him pay for what he has done to my life. Because of him…I lost everything. Everyone. No one will ever look or think of me the same as they did. I know he knows he hurt me, but he does not care. I was thrown out like the garbage! For this…Cornelius Robinson will pay dearly. And I think I have found the perfect way to do that.

With one last look at Franny Robinson, who is wrapped around her husband as they walk up the stairs, I turn on my hover shoes, and take off from the Robinson grounds.

Let this be the start of my vengeance.


	4. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
Wilbur

 _Todayland: Tuesday, August 18th, 2037_

" **W** ilbur!" His mother's voice called over the intercom. "Breakfast time."

Wilbur slowly opened his eyes, to be welcomed by the blinding morning sun. He sat up with a groan. "Be right there." He answered, while he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Wilbur, still not fully awake, pushed himself from the bed, walked over to the levitation platform, and waited for it to lower him down to the first floor of his room. He stepped off and removed his pajamas; replaced them with a pair of jeans and a white shirt with three navy blue strips across his chest and pocket. Wilbur hopped around his room trying to pull his socks over his feet. He tripped over his black convers and landed in one of his red bean bag chairs. After he pushed both his feet inside his shoes, he laced them and headed straight for the dining room. Where his family waited for him to arrive.

' _I wonder what mom has whipped up for breakfast today.'  
_

Wilbur closed his bedroom door, and headed through the front room toward the hall on the left side of the house; where the dining room awaited at the end.

Just as he was about to cross the tracks, his Aunt Billie's toy train zipped by him. The sudden appearance caused Wilbur to jump back, and finally wake up. With a shake of his head, Wilbur continued his walk.

The dining room doors were both opened already, and he slipped through. He made his way to his chair on the right of his father's. Which is usually where he sat, except he wasn't there. Wilbur sat down in the green funky chair, and his mother sat in his father's chair; something she tended to do when he's not present for a meal. Most likely to be close to him. He didn't mind that she did.

Once everyone had finally sat in their chairs, Carl got everyone's attention.

"Alright everyone. Breakfast is served." Carl opened his middle compartment, and many tiny versions of Carl raced across the table to serve the family their breakfast.

Each one kept saying 'breakfast is served' in their high pitched voices. Wilbur smiled when a tiny Carl brought him his breakfast. He hadn't noticed how hungry he was until the sweet aroma filled his nose. He licked his lips and picked his fork up.

His mom had made Bavarian Pancakes. To him it looked like she put blackberries inside the roll, and topped it off with powdered sugar and a spoonful of blackberries across both. Wilbur reached forward to grab the jug of syrup and poured the sticky liquid across his pancakes.

After he placed the jug back, Wilbur stuffed his face with one of his favorite breakfast foods.

"Whoa." Franny spoke after she swallowed her first bite. "Slow down sweetie. That food isn't going anywhere."

Wilbur wiped the food off his mouth with the back of his hand, and looked up at his mother. "I know, but I am going to play chargeball with Carl after breakfast. School starts next week, and I won't have all that much time to play once homework pops into the day." He explained quickly, and stuffed another big piece into his mouth.

Suddenly, Franny gasped and dropped her fork against her plate and looked at him. "School starts next week?!" She exclaimed. "I didn't realize it started so soon. It seems like you just got out for summer."

Wilbur swore he heard disappointment in her tone.

"You're telling me. I'm the one that has to go back to school on Monday." Wilbur shoved the last bit of food into his mouth, and pushed his plate forward, grabbed his wine-like glass and drank the rest of his orange juice. He started to race out of the dining room.

"Wilbur!" He heard his mother call after him. He stopped and turned his upper body to look at her. Franny had stood up and her arm was stretched out, like she wanted to grab his arm.

"Yeah mom?"

"Since school is starting next Monday, we need to go shopping." She explained.

Wilbur dropped his arms to his sides, hunched his back, and made a 'gross' face. "But mom!" He started to whine. "I don't need to go shopping. I have plenty of stuff from last year and-"

His mother held up her hand to stop him. "Wilbur, you have out grown your jeans and shorts. Your jeans are above your ankles." She pointed out to him.

Wilbur looked down at his ankles, to see that his mother was right. With his cocky side grin, Wilbur looked back up at his mother. "Eh, I think I'll be fine."

"We will be going later today mister." Franny told him with a stern look.

Wilbur groaned again. "Fine!" Before his mother could say more, he raced out of the room and back down the hall. Wilbur pushed both of his doors open, and grabbed his chargeball glove on his way to the game pad.

"Hey little buddy." Carl's voice called throughout the room.

Wilbur turned with a huge smile. "You ready to lose, Carl?" His voice filled with boasting.

"Phesh, please. You will be the one crying at the end of this match." Carl countered after grabbing his glove.

"We'll see won't we?" Wilbur and Carl both stepped on the gaming pad, and their bodies were engulfed in a white light before they were standing on opposite sides of each other.

The course Wilbur chose was a virtual representation of the Robinson garden. In the middle of the course was a spinning circle that looked like a pizza, with four pieces missing. On either side of the spinning pizza were bushes in the shape of hands; that moved up and down after 5 seconds. When one was up the other was down. And of course on the walls of both sides of the court were the large green buttons that bounced the chargeball to the closest target.

Wilbur crouched over, both arms held out ready to fire his first shot. Over the middle of the court, the blue holographic numbers counted down from three. When the word _'go'_ appeared Wilbur sent a chargeball toward the set of three green squares that will be hidden behind the bush hand in about 4 seconds. With a grunt, the chargeball shot forward and struck two of the three. The hand shot up for him, and he shifted his attention to the green squares behind Carl.

Carl had successfully knocked out three of his total eight. Wilbur only got two.

Wilbur saw Carl start after the ones that will be hidden in five seconds. He moved so he could hit the green button and knock out the ones behind Carl. He swung his hand and the chargeball released bouncing off the button and knocked another block off the court. Wilbur took a few steps back towards the center and shot another chargeball off. He was hoping that it would bounce off the grass wall and hit a target. Wilbur studied it closely and yelled out _"yeah!"_ when the chargeball hit between two and disintegrated them.

' _three left to go.'_ He thought to himself.

Wilbur moved about the court back to the center and shot his wrist forward. The lightning looking chargeball shot forward into the pizza circle. It barely passed through the open space. Another block disappeared.

 _Two.  
_

He moved his feet back and forth over the line in a half circle. Flicked his wrist to send more chargeballs out. Carl was hitting his targets as well. One of Carl's chargeballs bounced off the wall and struck Wilbur in the leg. Though Wilbur didn't mind much since two of his accidentally hit Carl.

Before long, both players were getting lower in targets.

Wilbur only had two left to knock out, and Carl only had one. Wilbur could feel the sweat drip down his forehead. The nerves getting him all jumpy. Wilbur adjusted his position to swing his chargeball at the last two targets behind Carl. A power-up popped into the path of Wilbur's chargeball and the item is locked into his inventory. Wilbur looked into the circle on top of his glove to see what it was. He got the Freeze. This is the first time during the game that Wilbur had gotten this power-up. He had gotten others like: the shield.

Wilbur pressed down on the circle to activate the power-up, and Carl was instantly frozen within a cube of ice. Taking the opportunity, Wilbur shot his chargeball through the spinning pizza, and the chargeball bounced off the wall and knocked into the target. He quickly moved toward the green button. When he was within shot Carl had unfrozen. Carl quickly shot his chargeball and it knocked into Wilbur's final block.

With all of Wilbur's blocks down, his dark goal began to glow green. His goal was open.

' _Dang! Carl must be practicing without me.'  
_

With quick speed he sent a chargeball out, but it missed its target by a few inches. While he was distracted, Carl had sent his final throw and it landed right in his goal.

The scoreboard changed to show Carl had a point.

"You got lucky!" Wilbur shouted across the court.

"I think you may be out of practice little buddy." Carl called back.

"Please, you needed all that extra practice to catch-up with what I was born with." Wilbur crossed his arms over his chest and sent out his confident grin. Obviously not letting his lost round of the game make him be a sore loser.

The countdown began again. Both players got back into position, and the blocks and goals reset.

They began to play.

Wilbur won the second round, so they both were tied with a point each.

With their last round, Wilbur only had three blocks left to knock off Carl, and his opponent had five. Wilbur spotted the bomb power-up and shot out to collect it. The bomb worked like this: Depending on how many blocks are left it blows a certain number up to help you win the game faster. He activated the power-up and it destroyed two of the three. With the widest grin he's given the whole game, he moved to bounce his chargeball off the green button, and it knocked Carl's last block off the playing field. He waited for the block to turn from red to green. After the four seconds, Wilbur fired. He jumped up in victory when his shot entered Carl's open goal.

As the scoreboard read that Wilbur won, he noticed that Carl had gotten his goal open as well. Right as he shot his chargeball into his open one.

Both players were returned to the gaming pad in Wilbur's room.

Wilbur turned his body to Carl and held his hand out.

"Great game." Wilbur smiled. "You almost had me there. For a second I thought you would get the second point before me."

Carl gripped Wilbur's out stretched hand, and gave him a smile of his own. "Next time I will beat you."

Wilbur raised a black eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?"

Carl said nothing then dropped his hand from Wilbur's.

"You know it little buddy."

Wilbur pulled his chargeball glove off his right arm, and tossed it on the floor near the game pad. Carl placed his on the table next to the trophy case. "You know your mom hates when you throw your things on the floor. You always end up not being able to find something, and complain about it. That's why she got you this table, so you can place your chargeball gloves on it. You know, so you can find them!"

"Silly, silly robot. I have a system." Wilbur pointed his thumb at his chest.

"Oh you do?"

"Of course I do. Everything has a place, and right now everything is where it should be." Wilbur crossed his arms over his chest, and boasted his confidence with a wide grin.

Carl leaned on one of his hips and pushed his head forward to stare at Wilbur. "Oh yeah?" Wilbur only nodded. "Where is the lava lamp your father made for you? You know, the one that has pictures floating around it of you and your parents?"

"Ha, that would be on my-" Wilbur had spun around to point at his desk, but when he saw it wasn't there he stopped talking. "Somewhere around here."

Carl only raised on of his thin, gold eyebrows.

"Look, it is around here somewhere. All I have to do is look for it. I'll find it." Wilbur told him so he would stop looking at him like he was. "I mean is there anything Wilbur Robinson can't do?"

"Well let's see, there's clean your room, be on time, tell the truth, put your clothes away, close doors, sit still, eat your veggies, returned borrowed items, play the trumpet, run for office, say-"

"I was being rhetorical!" Wilbur said with both his hands raised above his head.

"I know you were, but thought I might enlighten you on the things you can't do. I have plenty more. Want me to keep going?"

Wilbur dropped his hands to his sides, and glared at his friend. "I'd really rather you didn't go through the trouble."

Carl put one of his fingers up to say something back, but the sound of Wilbur's stomach growling caused both boys to stop. "Let's go get something for lunch."

Wilbur looked behind Carl at the clock on the wall. "Huh, we played longer than I thought."

Carl and Wilbur left his room to go invade the kitchen. As they entered the overly large kitchen they saw his mother, Franny, stand by a counter. Wilbur sat in one of the stools, and leaned over the counter to see what his mother was doing. Carl left the kitchen to go someplace else.

"Hey sweetie." Came her voice, not looking up from her task.

"Hey mom." Wilbur focused harder to understand what she was doing with cookie cutters, two different types of bread, and sandwich toppings. Wilbur could guess she was about to make sandwiches, that sounded really good to him at the moment, but couldn't figure out what she was doing with the cookie cutters. "What are you doing?"

Still not looking up at her son, Franny replied. "I am making your lunch."

"That's actually great. I'm starving."

"You are always starving, Wilbur." Franny laughed when she looked up at his face. She finished making his sandwiches, and lifted the plate up to set in front of him. "Eat up, after lunch we are going to the shops."

Wilbur only made a face. If Wilbur had to hate one thing, it was going to the shops with his mom. Especially if it was clothes shopping. "Alright."

Wilbur looked down at his plate. He had two sandwiches and a side of green grapes. Even though green grapes were a favorite of his, he would never admit that out loud, it was the sandwiches that caught his attention. He had one white and one wheat, but in the middle of each sandwich a piece of the wheat was in the center of the white, and white in the wheat. The center was shaped like the lightning bolt from his chargeball game.

"It is called 'Two Toned Sandwiches'." Franny explained his unanswered question.

Wilbur picked up the first sandwich, and bit into it. Tuna. With tasting both kids of bread in one, it was actually rather good. Wilbur chewed and watched as his mother made a wrap for herself. Chicken, with lettuce and tomato.

Wilbur put his sandwich down on his plate and hopped out of his seat. He opened the fridge and grabbed for a bottle of water. "Do you want anything to drink mom?"

Franny smiled in his direction. "Tea would be fine."

Wilbur grabbed a bottle of sweet tea from the same shelf. He walked back to his seat, placed his water down, and placed the tea in front of the seat next to him. He knew his mother would sit next to him. He stuffed his sandwiches in his mouth, being hungrier than he thought.

* * *

 **W** ilbur complained the whole time they were in the car.

During the supply shopping he didn't mind to much. As his mother pulled down the items he would need, he saw he didn't have more than half the stuff. Actually he only had paper.

Wilbur refused to have folders. When his mom tried to pull the right color folders, Wilbur stomped his foot and told her they would rip and fall apart before the school year was over. He said binders would work better for him and last him a lot longer. His mother said he made a good point, knowing how rough he was with his school supplies, and moved to grab the right colored binders for each of his classes.

The supply shopping didn't take as long as he hoped. To soon they entered his favorite stores with his jeans and shirts.

Wilbur put up with his mother grabbing five pairs of jeans and forced him to put each one on, then show her so she could see if they fit him right. Fifteen pair of jeans later, his mother finally kept seven and put them in the cart; which just hovered behind them and moving when she did.

Wilbur did enjoy the shirt shopping. He got to pick them out himself, and did not have to try them on. He picked out ten new short and long sleeved shirts. He told his mom most of his shirts still fit him. When they were put in the cart, both mother and son entered the shoe store.

Wilbur did admit his black convers were worn out and he needed a new pair.

At the moment, Wilbur was leaned against the checkout at the front of the shopping center; waiting for his mother to purchase his school items. He occupied his time scanning the center. He saw his mother was not the only to drag their children out. There were several others. Brown eyes looked around more, and they stopped on a person sitting on a bench not far from his checkout line. They held a book over their face, except their eyes. Wilbur raised a brow when he saw the person's gaze was locked on his mom.

' _Sorry buddy. She is married. To my dad!'_ Wilbur spoke inside his head.

Wilbur knew his mother was pretty, he had been out with her when other men would tell her so. He never minded when others did, because his mom loved his dad more than anything. But Wilbur became uneasy with the way this man stared at her.

With a hurry to leave, he turned to his mother. She was signing her name on the thin pad to finish the purchase. Wilbur pushed past her and grabbed most of the bags.

"Wilbur!"

"Let's go mom." Wilbur spoke before his mom could scold him for nearly knocking her over.

Franny put her wallet back in her purse, then put her fists on her hips. "What is the sudden rush? I expected it in the beginning of our trip, but not the end. What is up?"

Wilbur quickly glanced back at the person, but he was gone. That made his uneasiness worse. He looked back at his mother with a slight plea. "I just really want to get home. You know," Wilbur thought of something to say to get his mother out of the center. "to clean my room."

Franny looked at her son with a confused expression.

Without giving her a chance to respond, Wilbur headed out the door. His mother followed behind, and they both waited to get inside the travel bubble to get to their vehicle. Wilbur tapped his foot in hope of it making things move faster. It didn't.

With Wilbur's short attention he felt waiting in this line was going to be the end of him. It was their turn to step on the pad. The large blue wand pushed down over them, and the bubble traveled through the sky, leading them toward the area they parked.

Standing by his mother in the safety of the bubble, Wilbur finally felt his shoulders relax from the tension. His thoughts revert back to the strange person sitting on the bench. The way they hid their face with that book meant that they didn't want to expose their features. Wilbur knew too much about sneaking around, for he has done it many times to avoid his mother when he was trying to do something she didn't need to know. Mostly to break into his dad's time lab to get the time machine.

Wilbur squinted his brown eyes, to regain his focus. What he also remembers is their eyes. Wilbur could tell they weren't searching for something, while trying to look like they were reading the book. They were staring straight at his mom. There was no doubt. But the question Wilbur asked was _'why'_. Though most of Todayland knew Cornelius was married to Franny. They knew what she looked like as well as himself. That was a reason people would smile and say hello. Sometimes stare at them. But, the way that person was staring at Franny wasn't like others would. Theirs was scheming-like. Plot wise.

Maybe he was over reacting. He knew that with his dad being the 'Father of the Future' and his family known all over, people admired them for the most part, but Wilbur knew his father had enemies. Those who were jealous of the success and hard work his father put in over the years. Which also gave him the dark thought of someone actually taking action to hurt a member of the family to cause his dad pain. And everyone knew that himself was important to Cornelius, but Wilbur also knew that his mom, Franny Robinson, was the most precise treasure in his father's eyes. Franny wasn't just his father's wife; she was also his best friend. She was a huge part that kept his dad inventing. She pushed and encouraged. Though that may be from her assertive and know-it-all personality. But she loved him. If anyone wanted to get his father to bend, it was by hurting Franny.

"Wilbur?" The distant voice pecked at his ear, but he didn't focus on it long.

' _So could that person be an enemy of my father?'_ Wilbur thought to himself while he brought his fingers to his chin. _'Their eyes, the look they gave off towards my mom…'  
_

"Wilbur!" The voice was loud and caused his ear to ring.

"Ow!" Wilbur rubbed his ear to ease his pain. "Why did you yell in my ear?"

Franny started to walk toward the hover car. Wilbur didn't even notice they landed. "I've been trying to get your attention. You seem lost in another world." Wilbur followed his mom to the car. "Everything okay?"

' _No.'_ Wilbur thought. "Yeah, just thinking about where to start cleaning in my room." Wilbur lied. Wilbur really had no intension of cleaning his room, but he just wanted to get them both home.

"Is that so?" Franny put her bags in the backseat. "And why are you all of a sudden so excited to pick up after yourself?"

Wilbur didn't have an answer for that question. He tossed his bags in with the ones his mom had carried, and moved to the passenger side. He swung his legs over and plopped into the leather seat. Pushing his seatbelt together, as Franny got into the car and started it.

"That, is an excellent question." Wilbur started. "Which I have an answer for."

Franny maneuvered the hover car around the city, then raised her thin, black brow at her son. "Oh? Hmm, and what would that be?"

Wilbur hesitated. _'Better think on my toes here.'_ Then Wilbur remembers all the times his mother had gotten on to him for leaving his room a mess. "Because…" He started. Franny turned the wheel to move the car towards the house. "you always tell me to clean it, but I ignore you."

"Yes, you do."

"So, I thought about saving you from having to tell me today. Might as well do it."

Franny turned her gaze fully back on the sky.

The rest of the ride was left to silence. Wilbur scolded himself as he thought about the lie he came up with. Why didn't he just tell his mom that he wanted to get back to playing chargeball with Carl? She would have believed that more than the lie of cleaning his room. The look on her face gave him the hint that she didn't fully believe his reason. But, now that he said he would clean is room, he actually had to clean his room.

' _Wonderful Wilbur. Just wonderful.'_

* * *

 **Alright, so the end of Chapter Two. Hope it was okay for those of you reading. Each chapter will be told in a characters point of view like Franny, Wilbur, Cornelius, or Carl. The Chapters that say a word like** _'Vengeance'_ **will be told by the villain of the story through their eyes. Of course the beginning chapters will be kinda not so much action, but it is building up to what you read in the prologue. Gotta build the suspense, and get the readers thinking of what caused it and what will happen. I would love to have reviews. Just to know i'm doing okay. Or if you would like to see something added to a chapter during the time you learn what happened, then let me know. Would love to hear your ideas. Please review and enjoy. :)**


	5. Chapter Three

Chapter Three  
Carl

 _Todayland: Tuesday, August 18th, 2037_

" **D** o you really think this is such a good idea?" Carl spoke up as both him and Wilbur climb up the three sets of stairs to Wilbur's father's lab. "Do you wanna risk getting caught and grounded for the rest of your summer break?"

"Carl, will you relax?" Wilbur said, as they finished climbing up the steps. "I don't see how I will get in trouble, if both my parents are gone for the night."

Carl glared at his best friend. "Geez, I don't know." He spoke sarcastically. "I'm pretty sure they would notice when they stepped into the house."

Wilbur stopped in front of the keypad, where he would enter the password to open the travel tube; leading him to the basement. Wilbur leaned his head to give Carl a side-look. Obviously Wilbur needed some form of explanation.

"Picture this if you will." Carl started on his form of perfect reasoning. "You go down into the family basement, you take your dad's disassembler ray, run around the house and take apart all of the furniture! Leaving the house in a mess." Carl threw his arms in the air. "I'm most likely positive your parents will notice that their home is destroyed! And when they do, do you know who they are going to blame?"

Carl waited to see if Wilbur would answer. When Wilbur only crossed his arms over his chest, Carl continued his rant.

"They will immediately point their finger at you. Knowing you all your life, Wilbur, I know you will find some way to shift the blame to me. But of course that backfires in your face. Your father will get onto you about touching his inventions, and your mother will ground you as punishment." Carl crossed his skinny arms. "Oh and she may add that you have to fix your mess. By bringing back all the furniture."

Wilbur held his chin with his thumb and index finger, the same way Franny does Carl noticed, as he listened to Carl tell how his plan would turn out. Carl waited for Wilbur to say something, but he neither moved or said a word.

"Well?"

Wilbur released his chin and only smiled. "I hear you buddy, but you are just thinking of the worst outcome. One that might not even happen." Wilbur turned to enter the password.

"What do you mean 'won't even happen'?" Carl asked. "Of course it will happen. It always does. You wanna know why?" Carl didn't wait for Wilbur to answer before he answered himself. "I'll tell you why. It always happens because you never listen to your wise robot friend."

" _Password denied."  
_

"What do you mean?" Wilbur asked no one in particular. "That has always been the password."

Carl turned nervous and tried to slowly step out of the room. Just as the lower half of his body made it down the first set of stairs, Wilbur grabbed his little antenna. Carl was pulled back to where he was standing.

"Carl." Wilbur stared at him with a knowing look. "Did dad change the passcode?"

"Well, I mean, I don't think, he might have mentioned…" Carl babbled, not wanting to give Wilbur the new passcode that Cornelius programmed into his system to over right the previous. Cornelius told Carl that he didn't want Wilbur or anyone else to go down there right now, because he was doing some sort of construction project. Didn't want anyone to get hurt.

Wilbur shot one of his eyebrows up at him, and Carl tried to make himself smaller. "Yes."

"Well, what is the new code? I need it to get in there."

Carl hesitated. "Your father doesn't want anyone to go down there at the moment. He's got work going on and it is-"

"Carl," Wilbur interrupted. "what is the new code?"

Carl tried to keep it locked in his system, but his circuits were programmed to follow a command when asked. "Determinate. The new code is determinate."

Wilbur turned back to the keypad. "Thank you." Carl watched as Wilbur entered the new code, and stand before the tube that lifted from the ground.

"See you in a bit Carl." Wilbur saluted as the tube lit up and took him down below.

Carl began to pace back and forth. He balled his skinny fingers and held them to his mouth.

' _What if he gets hurt down there? I mean I haven't been down there, so I have no idea what kind of project Cornelius would be working on. Is he remodeling? Expanding?'_ Carl bumped into the invention called 'The Bird'. He shook his head.

Carl spun back to the travel tube, and waited. His fingertips curl in front of his mouth.

Wilbur's form suddenly came back down the tube. Carl was glad to see that he was unharmed, but his smile disappeared when he saw the invention on him. Wilbur held the disassembler on his shoulder.

"See?" Wilbur said as he pulled the ray down into both hands. "Nothing to panic about."

Carl balled his hands at his hips. "There is every reason to panic. If you do this to the house, and your parents come home to see that I just let you do this, you'll be dead and me deactivated." Carl dropped his shoulders then stood straight and saluted his buddy. "Nice knowing you Wilbur."

Wilbur held the ray in one hand at his side. "Carl, you seem all wound up." Wilbur sounded concerned. "Maybe you should just go relax and take a dip in a boiling bath of oil."

Carl stared at him with a blank expression.

"Now," Wilbur's voiced changed from fake concern to his normal cocky tone. "What time did they say they were coming home?"

Carl sighed. "Around eleven tonight."

Wilbur's grin reached the tip of his ears. "Great!" He raced out of the room.

"Maybe once you get grounded this time I can take a break from you." Carl muttered to himself, then followed after Wilbur. _'Maybe I can give one last effort to talk him out of destroying the house to find that treasure.'_

* * *

 **T** en fifty p.m.

Carl looked about the front room with worry. Each item of furniture had been disassembled and left as a pile of pieces. Carl couldn't talk Wilbur out of it. All Wilbur kept saying was that he really needed it. Nothing more.

Carl snapped his head up when he heard the ray start up again. Wilbur was in the kitchen standing in front of the fridge, which was much larger than himself. Carl gasped, and ran to stand in front of the ray. But Wilbur fired before Carl could reach it in time.

The contents of the fridge glowed purple and blue, before the pieces danced in squares then fell into a pile of pieces. All the food and drinks that were in the cold interior scattered all over the kitchen. Milk exploded against the wall and the liquid sank down to the floor.

"Come on little buddy." Carl begged. "You have completely disassembled the entire first floor kitchen and front room."

"I need to find it Carl." Wilbur looked up at Carl.

"Why is it so important?"

Wilbur didn't say anything for a few seconds.

"I can't tell you why."

"Oh?" Both boys froze in place and a look of fear struck their eyes. "And why can't you tell him?"

Wilbur and Carl looked in the front room to find both Cornelius and Franny standing side-by-side. Both had their arms crossed and an angry look darkened their features.

* * *

 **Alright, got chapter three up. Do you think Wilbur will get in trouble? What is he looking for?  
** **Read and Review 3**


	6. Chapter Four

Chapter Four  
Cornelius

 _Todayland: Tuesday, August 18th, 2037_

 **H** e sat in the cushioned booth.

The long table covered in a thick, maroon wool cloth. A vase filled with a single white rose, and two white candles lit in crystal candlesticks on either side. A large crystal plate sat in front of him. Normally there would be another dish placed upon it, but the server came and took both his and Franny's second course meal plate. Now they waited for their last course, which of course was their dessert. But the wait gave Cornelius time to think about what happened the other day at the Industries.

A soft hand touched his and he looked up from the table cloth to his wife's softly smiled face. Cornelius turned his hand over, the one she touched, and wrapped his fingers around her smaller hand.

"Don't think about it anymore tonight." She spoke quietly. "I know it makes you feel guilty every time you do, but there was nothing you could do. It's in the past, Cornelius. Keep Moving Forward."

Cornelius chucked when she used his motto against him. Which she tended to do a lot. He simply nodded his head once to give his answer.

The restaurant they sat in wasn't all that full. Much to Cornelius' surprise. When he called them up a few days ago to book his reservation, he requested they be in the booth in the back to the right facing the front of the building. Where they always sat. Their first date. He remembered after the meal, they both got into a debate on who was going to pay the check. The second the waitress placed the black leather book onto the table they both reached for it. Cornelius ended up touching the top of her delicate hand. The first time he had ever touched her hand. Their debate went on for a good ten minutes before Franny finally gave up on trying to pay the check. When they walked out, she grabbed his shirt in a fist and threatened him. She would be paying next time.

"What are you smiling about?" Franny's voice spoke softly.

Cornelius noticed that neither of them had spoken. Allowed the silence to creep along like the cracks of a frozen lake during winter.

"Huh," Cornelius pushed his glasses back up his nose. "the first time I brought you here. Our first date." He answered. As he looked upon her face, he saw a blush brighten her cheeks. She chuckled nervously.

"You mean when I threatened to toss you in the lake if you tried to stop me from paying next time?"

"Yep. That's the one."

The waitress came back to their table and placed their final plate on the crystal plating. She said a quiet 'enjoy' then disappeared again.

He watched as Franny picked her fork up. "You know I still will, if you try to take my turn." She began to eat her Dacquoise. A dessert cake made with layers of almond and hazelnut meringue and whipped cream. "Just keep that in mind." She popped a piece in her mouth.

"Dear, you do know we both pay every time now? My money is yours and yours is mine. We are married after all." Cornelius began to eat his. The chilled cake cooling his mouth.

"I like to think of it as having my independence." Franny said plainly. Her mood suddenly shifted from playful to distracted.

This did not go unnoticed by him. "Franny? What is it?"

She only shrugged her answer.

"Franny." Cornelius spoke with a harsher tone. No longer playing around.

"I don't know. I can't stop thinking about earlier. Wilbur seemed to be all jumpy and tense when we were leaving the shops earlier today. Trying to leave quicker."

"Isn't that normal for him?" He started to eat more of his cake, as did she.

"Yes, but not usually near the end. The look on his face gave me a weird vibe. Like he saw something that frightened him, and he was doing everything he could to get us going." Franny paused to chew another piece then continued when she swallowed. "He even went to lying about really wanting to clean his room."

Cornelius raised a blonde brow. "Did he now?"

"Yeah. And he actually did too." Franny placed her fork down after she finished. He did as well.

"Our Wilbur?" Cornelius grabbed the white pad from the edge of the table. He touched the glass screen to begin the process of paying the check. "Cleaned his own room?"

"Well, after I told him that since he said he was going to do it, he had to do it, and if he didn't then I would send you on him with your disassembler ray." Franny said with a sideways smirk.

Cornelius only laughed, and finished paying for their meal.

They both walked out of the building to the hover car. Franny had wrapped herself around her husband. Looped her arm through his at the elbow and placed her other hand on his upper arm. Her head rested on his shoulder. Cornelius could smell the sweet aroma of her perfume that cast off her skin.

Franny released herself from his body all to soon; leaving the empty space she had occupied to the chill of the night. Cornelius kept his eyes on her as she started to walk to the passenger side of the car.

"Franny?" He called out.

Her tracks stopped and she turned sideways to look at him. "Yes?"

Cornelius went to speak until the light of the moon caught behind her. Her body seemed to glow. Her fair skin lit up. She truly was beautiful. The way her black hair always formed her cowlick. Her bun held together by a ribbon. Which was baby blue tonight. Her dress was sleeveless, and flared out at the waist. The breeze shifted the bubble skirt around her legs. Her dress was black, but the skirt swirled out in baby blue along the bottom half. Her wrap held tightly to her bare arms when the wind picked up in the moment. His blue orbs settled on her brown ones.

"Cornelius?" Her eyes grew confused. "Something the matter?"

"Huh?" Cornelius shook his head to both sides. "No, no nothing is wrong."

"Oh." Her confusion disappeared. "Then why are you staring at me like that?"

He shoved his hands into his pockets, and stepped up to the driver side of the car, and unlocked it. "Just admiring how beautiful you look."

"You're so sweet." She blushed and sat down in the passenger seat.

Cornelius started the car, and got them moving back to the house. Without warning, Franny moved onto his side and pressed her lips to his cheek.

"Thank you for tonight." She whispered when she pulled her lips away. "It was wonderful."

He looked at her and smiled sweetly. "You are welcome." He returned his gaze to the sky and drove them home. He moved the hover car through the city. Dodging the traveling bubbles of late night employees headed home. Also moving through the buildings. They passed by his work, but he didn't give it a glance. When the Robinson Mansion came into their eye view, Cornelius moved the car towards the garage doorway.

"You always come first." He looked at Franny, who turned her head to stare at him. They had both gotten out of the car, and were headed to the front door. "Remember?"

Cornelius wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her to his chest. She had placed her hands on his chest over his blue shirt. Her eyes stared into his. Cornelius bent his head down so their foreheads touched. With eyes closed, he could fell her breath on his lips. They were only inches apart.

"I do remember, and you show me every chance you get." Franny's lips brushed against his as she spoke. "This is the reason I fell in love with you Cornelius Robinson." Her hand moved over his heart.

Just before their lips touched fully, a loud smack came from the house. Both Cornelius and Franny turn their upper bodies to look at the front doors. With a quick glance at each other, they headed inside. Cornelius held off on the kiss for later.

The second they stepped into the front room, they knew immediately who to blame for the current status of the mess.

Cornelius saw all the furniture in pieces in piles. His hands ball in fists.

' _Wilbur.'_ Heard the voice of his son, both of them turned to stare at him.

Wilbur was talking to Carl while standing in the kitchen. The fridge left destroyed and the food all over the place. In Wilbur's hands was his disassembler ray. He must have gotten into the basement. _'Poor Carl.'  
_

"I can't tell you why." Wilbur said to Carl.

"Oh?" He saw both boys froze when the sound of Franny's voice entered their conversation. "And why can't you tell him?"

The fear in both their eyes was enough to tell him that Wilbur was hopping to not get in trouble for this stunt. Poor Carl was always getting into the middle of it. That might be his fault. When Wilbur was born he added some new programs into Carl to keep Wilbur safe and a watchful eye.

Wilbur, his eyes filled with fear, stuttered with his words before he spoke. "That is an excellent question." He hid the ray behind his back, or was trying to.

Cornelius and Franny both stood in the same spot. He, nor she, had changed their expression or uncrossed their arms.

"Alright young man." He said to his son. "Give us your best excuse."

He saw Wilbur tear his gaze to Carl for some help. When Wilbur said nothing, Cornelius saw Franny uncross her arms, walk up to Wilbur, and grabbed his arm that held the ray.

"Carl?" She asked. "Would you be so kind as to give me and my husband a moment alone with our son?" She had taken the disassembler ray away from Wilbur and gave it to Carl. Cornelius waited for the eager robot to leave the three of them alone before they spoke to Wilbur.

When Carl headed out in a random direction, Franny dragged their son through the front room, towards the hall with his bedroom. As Cornelius followed behind his frustrated wife and troublesome son, Cornelius noticed that Wilbur was not fighting against Franny's grasp. Instead, Wilbur allowed his mother to drag him to his room. His head lowered.

Franny opened Wilbur's bedroom doors, and pointed inside. Indicating that Wilbur should enter. Cornelius saw Wilbur enter and then both him and Franny followed after. Cornelius closed the doors to allow their conversation to be between them.

When he turned back to face inside his son's room, Wilbur had plopped down in one of his red bean bag chairs.

"Alright young man." Franny spoke to fill the silence.

"Yeah, I know." Wilbur interrupted Franny. "I'm grounded for however long you decide. No video games. I am to fix all the furniture I broke and most likely having to clean all the food in the kitchen off the walls. Am I right?" Wilbur stared up at his mother.

Cornelius watched as Franny made her way toward the bean bag in front of Wilbur's. "Well you got half of that right, but thank you for the other half." She placed a hand on his knee.

' _The question I want to know is why?'_ Cornelius thought to himself. "Why?" He spoke aloud.

Wilbur looked over at him with a blank face.

"I don't get it Wilbur. Of all the trouble you have gotten into over the years of your growth, you have never ever destroyed this house."

"Well," Wilbur piped up. "there was that one-time cousin Laszlo painted me orange, and the rest of mom's music room a rainbow." Wilbur tried to smile to enlighten the mood.

"Yes, there was that, but you were five and Laszlo should have known better. You didn't really get into trouble for that." Cornelius smiled, but it quickly disappeared. "I wanna know why this time you decided to mess up, not only your home, but all of your family's home?"

Wilbur looked at Franny, then looked down. "Can we talk please? Alone?" Wilbur begged his father. Looked him right in the eyes.

Cornelius was going to say 'no', but when his gaze locked with his son's brown eyes, Franny's eyes, he rethought his answer. He sighed and turned to his wife. "Would you mind giving us a minute? I'll come find you in our room after I finish here."

Franny got up from her seat and headed for the door. "Alright." When the soft _click_ was heard, his full attention was on Wilbur.

"Alright, you have my focus."

"I used the disassembler ray." Wilbur stated.

"Yes, I very well saw that you did." Cornelius crossed his arms over his chest again.

"Please, let me explain." Wilbur begged his father. His fingers messed with a tiny hole in his chair. "I used the disassembler ray. You know, after I tricked Carl into giving me the new code to the basement. I needed to find an invention of yours. I know you keep most of them in the family basement for safe keeping, but there is one that you hid somewhere around the house, so I couldn't use it." Wilbur paused for a second.

Cornelius waited patiently for his son to finish.

"I figured out that you needed the ray to locate the invention. You hid it really well, which I know is the point, but I was determined to find it. Even face the punishment I would get from you and mom later." His head dropped. "But I didn't find it."

"Why were you trying to find the scanner?" Cornelius asked. He made his way over the bean bag Franny had sat in and crossed his legs. Wilbur's head only turned toward the wall made of window. Not a word.

Cornelius put his elbows on his knees and smacked his lips together. "You know, at dinner," he started. His eyes looked at Wilbur's face. "your mother told me when you and her were leaving the shops you seemed spooked. You were trying to push her out and get home?" Wilbur turned his eyes to him. "Does that have something to do with you wanting to find the scanner?"

"There was this person near the checkouts." He explained. "They were staring at mom."

Cornelius raised a brow.

"Not like others do. You know, with happiness to see the wife of the famous inventor or the woman who taught frogs to sing and play instruments. No their stare was different. Evil-like. As if they hated her. Or you."

"Wilbur,"

"Dad, I'm being serious. I saw them. I felt the tension from seeing the hateful way they looked at mom."

"Well, there are people out there who don't appreciate the work I've done here. Envious of our family and what we have. But Wilbur, I promise you that I would never let anything happen to you, Franny, or any member of our family."

Wilbur slumped in his seat. "I wanted to use the scanner to find out who that person was."

Cornelius smirked. "I figured as much." Cornelius pushed himself up from the bean bag. "Come here." Wilbur stood and wrapped his arms around his father. With a tight hug, Cornelius spoke into his son's hair. "I understand your intentions, Wilbur, I really do, but your actions to get that intention was wrong. So for breaking the furniture, you are to fix them tomorrow morning after breakfast, and clean up the kitchen." Cornelius held his son at arm's length to look in his face. "And I want it done before I come home from work."

Wilbur opened his mouth. "But that could take all day! I'll never get it done in time!"

"Well then you better not sleep in too late." Cornelius walked up to his doors and opened one. "Good night Wilbur." He said before he left. He heard Wilbur grunt in frustration before he headed up the two sets of stairs to the second floor.

Cornelius walked down the marble hall to his bedroom.

The room was bright. The lights on. The king size bed made perfectly, a cork of Franny's to always make the bed in the morning. The comfort area on the right side of the room. A four seater couch, end tables, coffee table, fireplace, and bookshelves filled with some of his and hers favorite books.

He moved his feet to the left side of the bedroom, where his bed, end tables, dresser, bathroom and closet doors were. As he sat on his side of the bed to take his shoes off, he noticed he didn't spot Franny. He knew she had come in here because the light was on.

"Franny?" He called out.

"In the bathroom." She replied as she opened the door.

He saw she was taking her make-up off. Her hair was already pulled out of her bun and changed into her night dress.

"How did it go with Wilbur?"

Cornelius sighed, and picked both his shoes up and walked into the bathroom to enter the closet. "It was the same. He gave his explanation. Then I told him his punishment."

"What was his excuse this time?" Franny appeared in the doorway and leaned against the door frame, her arms loosely crossed around her abdomen.

Cornelius removed his shirt and pants. He pulled a pair of loose gray pants over his legs and grabbed a folded white t-shirt. "He didn't really give an excuse. He told me why he actually did it."

After he pulled the white shirt over his head, he looked at Franny's expression. Her eyes were slightly bigger.

"He did? What did he tell you?"

Cornelius walked out of the closet and to the sink, grabbed his tooth brush, and began to brush. He turned around, so he was leaned against the counter and looked at Franny.

"Um, it wasn't anything big. Just that he wanted to use the scanner at school when he went back." He lied. He turned sideways to spit the toothpaste out and continued to brush.

"Why would Wilbur want to use the scanner at school?" Franny questioned herself more than him.

Cornelius rinsed his mouth out with cold water, put his toothbrush back next to Franny's, which was on his side, and grabbed her hand to lead them out of the bathroom.

"He did not give an answer to that, but I told him he will be fixing all the furniture he broke and scrubbing the kitchen tomorrow after breakfast."

Franny sat down on Cornelius' side of the bed, and laid back. Her legs rested over the side. She released a long sigh, and put one of her arms over her eyes. "What a long day." She whispered.

Cornelius stood in front of her, and just smiled.

When Franny laid back onto the bed, her black hair fanned out around her arms. He loved to run his fingers through her black strands. All the way through until the end. Her hair reached three inches past her chest. He preferred her hair long, then when it was short. It suited her better.

Cornelius' thoughts traveled back earlier to when they were standing out front. The kiss they almost shared. Wanted very much, Cornelius leaned over the bed.

"Franny." He spoke softly.

She did not move.

"Franny." He tried again with a brow raised. _'She must have fallen asleep.'  
_

With a sigh, Cornelius lifted Franny up. His arms went under her upper back and under her knees. Without getting up from the bed, Cornelius gently moved her over to her side. After pulling the comforter and sheet back. He slipped off the bed after he placed her head on the pillow. Franny moved herself onto her left side, and Cornelius flipped the switch off, and climbed into bed. He took his glasses off to place them onto the end table. He pulled the comforter up and wrapped his arm around her to move her body. Franny, half asleep, placed her head in his neck and her arm around his chest after she turned onto her right side.

Cornelius fell asleep while running his fingers through her hair and thinking why he lied about Wilbur's reason for using the disassembler.

' _Could there really be something to worry about?'_

* * *

 **Alrighty! Chapter four is finally up! I'm sorry for those who were waiting for the chapter to be up. Well, it's up now. Hoped you liked. I really enjoy writing the tender moments between Cornelius and Franny. It's really fun. Anyway, so Wilbur got in trouble and now has to fix the house. Fun times. Read and Review for more! Until next chapter. :)**


	7. Watching

Watching

 _Todayland: Tuesday, August 18th, 2037_

 **T** he house always seemed to be in chaos.

I watched as Wilbur Robinson used one of his father's inventions to take apart the living area.

' _Is he always like this?'_ I asked myself.

I see the robot, who's name I don't know, try to talk with the youngest member of the family. That doesn't seem to work.

A pair of lights enter the corner of my eye, and I jerk my head in that direction.

' _Damn! Their back already!'_ I quickly send my hover boots in the direction of a bush by the overly large front doors. I peek over the top to see what is happening.

I watch as Cornelius grabs Franny around her waist. Her hands rest on his chest.

' _Bleh.'_ I scrunch my brows together in disgust.

I watch as his head leans down to her forehead, and just when I think he is going to kiss her, a sudden loud noise comes from inside the house. The noise not only made them jump, but me as well.

I glance at the home, then back to them. When they finally entered through the front doors, I come out from behind my bush. I hover over to the window that looks into both the kitchen and living area. I see what caused the noise. Wilbur destroyed the kitchen fridge.

I can't hear what anyone is saying, but from the looks I could make out that Cornelius and Franny were angry, the robot was confused at what to do, and their son was frightened.

' _Did he not think he was going to get into trouble?'  
_

The robot scurried out of the room as Franny dragged her son down the opposite hall. I gasp, and move my body to find the room they were heading to. I guess it is Wilbur's room. I know exactly where that is. I know where every room is.

I come close to the window belonging to Wilbur's room, and I move to the edge where the window wall stops and the solid wall began. I look inside. I find Wilbur sitting in one of the five red bean bag chairs. Cornelius is standing halfway between the doors and his son. Franny was between the boys. She was speaking to him. When her lips stop moving and press into a thin line, Wilbur started to talk back.

' _I wish I knew what they were saying.'  
_

When I look back up through the window, Franny has moved to sit in front of Wilbur. Her hand resting on his knee. When I finally got a closer look at Franny, she gets up and walks further away.

She walked out the door and into the house where I can't see her.

' _Where is she going? Did they finish punishing the kid already? No. Cornelius is still in there.'  
_

I quickly fly back to the front of the house, and look into the living area. I search with my eyes faster than the wind; which is quite chilly tonight. My eyes finally spot her going up the second set of stairs to the second story. I take a wild guess at where she is heading. I send myself up and over the roof of the house. I direct over to the right and hang up-side-down to look through the master bedroom. Cornelius and Franny's bedroom.

I wait. The room is dark. Possibly darker than it is out here. I wait some more. I feel all the blood rush into my head. Once I start to get dizzy, the lights finally turn on.

I watch as Franny enters the room, and leans against the wall after she closes the door. She kicks her heels off and drops her wrap onto the floor over them. With a sigh, she crouches down to pick them up, and heads towards a door. The bathroom. I know she is probably getting ready for bed. When she enters the other room, I lose sight of her. With how the bathroom is made, the only thing I can see is the wall. I wrap my body around the house to a window giving me the access to look inside the bathroom.

From the window I hover in front of, I see Franny standing in front of the mirror above the sink. She has changed out of her dress into her nightgown. Looking at her back, the gown exposed most of it. The straps cross over, and the skirt began at the small of her back. Of course, since her day dresses had funky colored skirts her gown did as well. Many circles patterned the nightgown.

I look in the mirror to see her wiping her face.

That's when _he_ came into the room. My mood shifted into a distasteful one. I half watch as he talked with his wife. Not wanting to see him act like he cares about her.

' _He doesn't care about her. He doesn't care about her or his son. Any of his family really.'_ I think hatefully. _'Just like he didn't care about me.'  
_

Suddenly the light turned off. I jerk my head back to look through the window again. I watch as they leave through the bathroom door, and back into the bedroom. That's when I lost sight of them both.

I move myself back from the bathroom window. Wrap back around the house, the bedroom light now off, and take off into the city.

' _I just need to keep watching, and wait for the right moment to strike.'_

* * *

 _Todayland: Wednesday, August 19th, 2037_

 **T** he weather is not looking to happy today. The clouds gloomed out the mood. The rays of sunshine being hidden.

My mood shifted into a very shitty one. Nothing has gone well this morning.

My alarm didn't go off, so I couldn't get over to the Robinson house in time. Then on my way out of the apartment the landlord caught me, and told me to get out. I have until next Monday. Today is Wednesday.

I slouched back on the bench, and sigh.

' _Robinson.'_ I growl. _'You caused this! You made this happen to me.'  
_

I look forward to stare at the Robinson Mansion in the distance.

' _I'm watching you Cornelius Robinson. You and your family.'_

* * *

 ** _Stalker. That's all I have to say about this villain. A huge stalker.  
Anywho, another view in the eyes of our villain. There isn't much about this person until their plan is in action. But giving you an idea how how much anger grows inside them. They will get more involved as the week goes by. We have four days left until the week is over. What will happen? What will happen? Hmmmm...  
See you guys next chapter! :)_**


	8. Chapter Five

**I am sorry that it took a few days to get this chapter up. I had a hard time getting my idea down on paper. That and I got busy with everyday life. But I finally got it down. Hope you enjoy.**

Chapter Five  
Franny

 _Todayland: Wednesday, August 19th, 2037_

 **F** ranny lounged on the newly fixed couch against the half wall that separated the TV room from the front room. A TV that rarely got any attention. The Robinsons were too busy having fun around the house to give it a second glance.

Franny turned the thick, worn down page of her book. She had read this book many times before. She knew what was going to happen throughout it. How it started. What went on in the middle. How the story ended. Every detail she remembered on every page. Franny scanned her brown eyes over each sentence, and pictured the scene in her mind.

The daring sword fight between the hero and villain. Protagonist and Antagonist.

Franny pictured the fight inside her mind that projected around her. Swallowing her body whole. Reading how the young boy stood before all to fight the witch. Protecting his only family from being taken. His younger sister. Franny flipped the pages as she read the battle. The young boy dodging the shots of magic the witch threw at him. Swinging his sword when he got the chance. To Franny, the boy seemed to be clumsy and uncoordinated. He never touched the witch with his sword. Turning the page once more, Franny scanned her eyes over the printed black words then her mouth opened slightly. Her mind showed her the boy was struck down; bleeding. His younger sister stood over him as magic illuminated from her hand.

A sudden hand brushed over her shoulder, and caused her body to jerk on the couch. The _thunk_ of her book hitting the floor mirrored her gasp of surprise. Franny whipped her head up to stare at her older brothers, Gaston and Art. Gaston being the one to touch her shoulder.

"Don't do that!" Franny exclaimed as she stood from the couch. Her hands balled at her hips. "Next time I might punch you by accident! I don't want to give you a black eye, again."

"Sorry." Gaston shrugged. "Mom and Dad would probably just laugh at me if you did. It wouldn't be the first time." He smiled his goofy grin.

Art stepped up to Gaston's side; who is the eldest of the three even though Art is taller. He gave her a small smile. "We're sorry to disturb you Francesca, but we wanted to say good-bye before we take off."

Franny made a face when Art called her by her full name. The only people who actually called her Francesca were their parents. Everyone else called her by her preferred name, Franny.

"I forgot it was today you guys were heading out." She said.

Gaston pointed a finger up at the high vaulted ceiling. "We were supposed to leave two days ago, but Art here decided to take extra pizza deliveries."

Franny glanced up at Art with a raised brow. He only shrugged with a side smile.

"We will see you when we return home in a few days." Gaston said. Franny's smile faltered a bit, but didn't go unnoticed by her brothers.

"It's okay Franny." Gaston pulled her body into his side and gave her a squeeze. "Mom and dad will understand you not being able to come."

Franny fidgeted with her white painted nails. "I know, but I still feel horrible. They have been bugging to see all three of us together for a while now. But with Joe and Billie gone until September, Fritz and them still away on vacation, the only ones left here are Bud and Lucille. I can't ask them to watch Wilbur during the day while Cornelius is working. I am needed here by both my boys."

Art lifted her chin with his finger. Looking deep into her chocolate eyes as he spoke. "You know what you need Franny?"

She raised her brow at him.

"A brother sandwich!"

Franny jumped in surprise. "What?" her brothers wrapped their arms around her small frame. "No! No, don't!" They ignored her pleas, and lifted her feet off the floor and both gave her a tight squeeze.

Franny struggled in their grip to escape. Gaston and Art only laughed at their little sisters failed attempt. After a few more seconds they released her back to the ground. Her hands brushed her skirts out, and she placed her hands on her hips. She tried to look at them annoyed but her smile only brightened. With a sigh and shake of her head, Franny lifted on her toes to give each of her brothers a peck on the cheek.

"Tell mom and daddy I love them very much." She said.

Gaston picked up his bags. "We will." With one last lopsided grin he headed out the front doors.

Art followed suit to his older brother. "Oh," he turned his head back to Franny. "stay out of trouble Franny." He chuckled. "Don't give Cornelius a heart attack while we are gone. Goodness knows you are a stubborn hand full."

Franny furrowed her thin, black brows and punched Art's arm before he passed through the threshold. "Oh, shut up!"

Her brothers gave a final wave before they disappeared into the sky. Franny remained on the front porch long after they disappeared. With a sigh and half turn of her body, Franny's smile faded when she looked through the opened front doors to the Robinson Mansion.

' _For the first time in years, the house is empty.'_ She thought. Her eyes glanced through the window in the kitchen to spot her thirteen-year-old son, Wilbur.

Her son had spent all morning and afternoon cleaning up his mess he caused last night. Franny allowed Wilbur to use Cornelius' refurbisher to repair all the furniture he broke. Currently he was on his knees scrubbing the floor with all his strength to remove the crusted food that has glued itself.

"Hm." Was her reaction to watching Wilbur get frustrated with the hardened mac-and-cheese she cooked two nights ago. He threw the scrub brush at one of the four pillars and it came back hitting his head.

Franny started to walk back into the house, but stopped to look back at the city. The city she watched change over the years of her growth. She remembered when all the buildings were square and tall. Looking out at the city now, every building was different. Some tall. Some small. Wide and thin. Curved. Traveling bubbles covered the airway around the buildings. The winding tracks of the monorails maneuvering throughout the city.

Her husband had truly changed the future. His future.

When Franny first met Cornelius, he was still Lewis at the time. She found out that he lived in an orphanage all his life until the day of the science fair. When he built his first real invention. The Memory Scanner. Franny remembered the look on his face when it actually worked. How the volunteer ended up being the woman who adopted him that afternoon along with her husband.

The one thing that Franny would never forget that day was when Cornelius told her she was right. Everyone else thought that young ten-year-old Franny was crazy. Crazy to believe in her dream. That day, she found someone who believed she was right. Right that frogs had more musical ability than people did. Her heart swelled with happiness at his words. Words that only fueled her ambition to work even harder to make it true. It took years, but the night Franny successfully genetically enhanced her frogs, she was overcome with excitement. They sang. All of them.

Franny smiled at the next thing that happened that night. She ran. She ran with the tank in her hands. Her skinny legs carrying her towards Cornelius' house five miles from hers. She had knocked on the door after putting the frog tank down on the front porch. Cornelius was the one to open the door to find Franny bent over. Her hands on her knees and the skirt of her dress bunched up. Franny was out of breath but talked rather quickly about why she was there. It took a few seconds, and a glass of water later before he finally understood her words. Franny pulled him to stand in front of the tank, which was now on the curved island counter in the kitchen, to show him. Her 'star pupil' Frankie started to sing. Franny was bouncing on her feet when Cornelius congratulated her success. Franny ignored the touch on her arm, and wrapped her arms around his waist; burring her face in his chest.

A crackle of thunder rang in her ears. Franny glanced around to find herself standing out in the pouring rain. With her dress soaked and sticking to her legs, Franny rushed inside the house. Closing the double doors behind her. She held her arms out while she sighed at her wet clothing. Franny untied the ribbon from her hair and dropped it to the floor. Her damp hair tumbled down to the middle of her back. With a quick kick of her ankles, both her heels slip off and cluttered to the floor.

Franny started to make her way towards the curved stairs that lead to the master suite. Her bedroom. Leaving droplets of water behind her.

"Dearie?" A soft frail voice spoke. Franny glanced at Lucille. "What happened to you? Why are you all wet?"

Franny tilted her head with a guilty grin; her fingers rubbing the back of her neck. "I got caught in the down pour while saying good-bye to Gaston and Art."

Lucille nodded her head. "Alright. You better get into a warm shower before you freeze. It is quite chilly."

"Of course." Franny headed up a few steps before she looked back down at her mother-in-law. "Would you keep an eye on Wilbur?" Her eyes shifted to him. He was still scrubbing the mac-and-cheese off the floor. "Make sure he doesn't quit." Lucille only softly smiled and gave a nod.

Franny rushed up the rest of the stairs and down the hall. A draft crept up her arms and bare legs. She wrapped herself up in her arms and shivered. She quickly opened the door and shut it. She flipped the switch and rushed into the bathroom. Along the way, she pulled her dress up over her head and discarded it on the floor. Goosebumps rushed along her skin, and she quickly turned the hot knob to the shower and the water came rushing out from the shower head on the ceiling. The already steaming water fell like the rain outside.

Franny turned the cold knob on just a little so when she stepped in the water wouldn't burn her skin. With the water adjusting to the right temperature, Franny reached behind her to unhook the clasp to her bra. She tossed it into the correct basket along with her underwear. One of the two mirror's above the split double sink had already began to fogged up. She could still see the outline of her body by the fair color of her skin, and the blackness of her wild hair.

With the room filled up with steam, Franny stepped inside the glass shower, and let the water rush over her.

She stood under the water for a few minutes with her eyes closed.

Franny reached for the bottle of shampoo and worked it into her hair. Rubbing her nails along her scalp and relaxing at the sensation it brought over her. Tilting her head back, the water seeped through her strands, washing the soap out. Franny closed her eyes and sighed slowly. Her hands help to get all the soap out. After standing under the water longer than she needed, Franny put conditioner in then began to cover her body in soap.

The steaming water turned cold as soon as she finished getting all the soap off. With a quick turn of the knobs the water stopped and she opened the glass door to step out. Once she wrung the extra water from her hair, Franny grabbed her towel. She wrapped it around her, under her arms, and pressed the velcro together. She looked up.

"AH!"

* * *

 **Read and Review! Please?**


	9. Chapter Six

Chapter Six  
Cornelius

 _Todayland: Wednesday, August 19th, 2037_

' _ **T** his is taking longer than it should.'_ Cornelius thought to himself. _'I should already be walking through the front door.'_ He sat at his desk hunched over. A pen in hand and papers scattered all over his desk top. His elbow was placed over a few scattered papers and his fingers held his head up by his forehead. His glasses had slipped down his nose while he moved the pen to scribble over the page he was staring at. After he signed his name for what seemed like the fiftieth time since he started these papers this morning, Cornelius dropped his pen then stood from his desk. He brushed his rough fingers through his wild blonde hair, and pushed his glasses back up his nose.

He walked around his desk chair to the large window that covered the entire wall behind it. Floor to ceiling. Cornelius wrapped his hands behind his back and clasped them together. His glasses slip down his nose again while his eyes scanned the city that gave off its own light. Light that was collected throughout the day by the sun.

' _I'm really glad I reduced the amount of energy it needed so that the lights could go on all night for several days. That way if the weather is bad like this the city won't be in total darkness.'  
_

A sudden bluish-purple light flashed within the clouds. There was no zigzag line this time. The constant flash continued a few seconds after the last one. Rolls of thunder shook the window every so often. The rain smacked against the glass and raced down like a stream. The rain hitting the glass seemed like it was trying to get to him, but the window created a barrier between them.

Cornelius turned his head to look at the clock that hung on the wall to his left.

Eight-thirty p.m.

He was supposed to have left the office an hour and a half ago. Home to his wife and son an hour and fifteen minutes ago. As he watched the raindrops race many others down the glass, his thoughts turned to his son, Wilbur. The mess he caused last night while he was out with Franny.

' _What am I going to do with that boy?'_ He grabbed his chin. _'No matter how many times he seems to get grounded, he goes back to getting in more trouble and starting the whole cycle up again. Grounded. Ungrounded. Trouble. Grounded again. It never seems to end.'_ Cornelius sighed loudly as his head shook from side to side. _'He wanted the scanner. To use it to scan the bench he saw the person sitting on yesterday.'  
_

Cornelius understood his reasoning. The person Wilbur saw obviously frightened him. The more Cornelius thought about it the more he began to worry himself. Was there someone out there targeting his family? Wilbur seemed pretty confident that the person was staring right at Franny.

' _Was it hate that he said was behind their eyes?'  
_

Cornelius moved his head back to the clock after another flash of lightning.

Eight forty-five p.m.

With a spin on his heel, one last glance at his scattered desk, Cornelius grabbed his shoulder bag from the back of his chair and closed his office door behind him. The entire fourteenth floor was dimly lit.

' _Everyone else must have left when seven hit the clock.'  
_

Cornelius noticed he was usually always the last one to leave and the first to come in. He stepped under the tube to take him down to the first floor. The floor lit up beneath his feet, and the suction pulled his body up from the floor. Cornelius twisted and turned in different directions. Finally, his feet touched the floor once more. The suction stopped and the floor turned off under the tube. Cornelius fixed the strap to his leather bag and headed for the front doors.

He passed by the front desk and the security guard, Bobby. Bobby was finishing up a glazed donut when he noticed Cornelius.

"Finally headed home Mr. Robinson?" Bobby asked while leaned up against the desk.

"Yeah, it seems late enough that the boss won't fire me." Cornelius smirked as his hand shoved itself in his lab coat pocket.

Bobby started to twist his torch in his free hand. "Hope your wife isn't too upset that you're coming home late."

Cornelius laughed nervously as his hand rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't think she will be too mad at me when I get home."

Bobby nodded his head. "How is the Mrs. doing?"

"Franny is great. She is doing very well. At the moment she has her hands full with our son Wilbur. Trying to keep him out of trouble and ready for the eighth grade." He explained.

"Glad to hear." Bobby jerk his head to motion outside. "Drive safely Mr. Robinson. The storm has gotten worse, and it will only continue on for the next couple days."

Cornelius waved his hand. "Will do."

His feet carried him up to the front door and he placed his hand on the keypad so it could scan his prints. Since it was after hours the door wouldn't open without an employee's prints. After the few seconds, the door slid open. The welcoming chill from the night wrapped around his body. Cornelius raced out into the down pour and tried to open his car. He pulled the handle several times before he realized it was locked. Cornelius dug into his leather bag for his keys. After fumbling to find them and unlocking the car, he was soaked on his shoulders, back and his blonde hair drooped down.

He climbed into the driver seat and pressed the red button to start the car. The lights lit up and the car started to hover into the air.

Cornelius clipped his seatbelt around himself, tossed his bag into the seat next to him, and moved the car towards his home. He turned the defroster up all the way, and the windshield wipers as fast as they could. Neither helped him to see fully at where he was directing his car.

The rain became like fog. Created a canvas before his eyes. Cornelius leaned forward and squinted his eyes to try and get a better look of his surroundings. Jerking the wheel to the side to avoid colliding with another vehicle. His heart beat raced in his chest. That was not his only _'close call'_ on his drive home. He had to jerk the wheel several more times before he was finally home.

When Cornelius pulled the car into the driveway, a sigh exhaled from his lips with relief. He had several almost encounters on his drive. Almost running into the side of two buildings and five other hover cars.

' _Franny would have had a heart attack with that wild car ride.'_ Cornelius smirked as he quickly turned the car off and raced to the front doors. The rain beat down on his head and shoulders. Droplets fell like streams down his face and dripped off his chin. _'Why is it when it decides to rain I never have my umbrella? I do every time it doesn't rain.'  
_

He reached out to turn the knob.

"Ring my doorbell!"

"No, ring mine!"

Both Spike and Dimitri popped up from the potted plants on either side of the front doors. Cornelius saw that they both were beyond soaked. Nothing they wore was dry. When they both saw who had approached the house, their smiles faded. Cornelius watched as they both dropped back into the plants.

With a smirk, he opened the front door. His foot kicked it closed, and he dropped the wet leather bag in one of the chairs against the wall of the walk room. Cornelius stopped in his tracks when he noticed a single ribbon and a pair of nude heals laying near the same chair.

' _Did Franny get caught in the storm as well?'  
_

He moved his feet again to enter the front room. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he looked around the fixed area. All the furniture was put back together and in the correct place. His eyes fall on the book laying on the floor by the couch. Cornelius turned to look inside the kitchen. He spotted Wilbur bent on the floor sweeping up the last of the food.

"Wilbur."

He saw Wilbur freeze in his spot. His shoulders tensed up and his grip on the little broom tightened. He slowly turned his head to look at his father. With a slight grin, Wilbur swept up the last bit of food into the pan and stood up straight.

"Hey dad."

Cornelius only looked at his son. He didn't say a word.

"I-I did my punishment. I started right after breakfast. I swear." Wilbur dumped the pan into the trash bag by his feet. "I only had that last bit of food to clean up before you came home. I know you said to have it done before you came home, but it took a while to get the dried food off the walls and the floor." Wilbur's voice became very fast as the nerves grew inside his skin.

Cornelius walked up to Wilbur and reached his hand out. He saw Wilbur throw his hands up in front of his face; protecting it. Cornelius placed his hand on his son's shoulder, and smiled down at him. Wilbur opened his eyes to see his father's smile. He lowered his hands from his face, and gave a nervous smile of his own.

"Good job Wilbur." He finally said. "I am proud that you took responsibility for your mess. You did a great job, little buddy."

Wilbur stood tall, and laughed when his father used Carl's nickname for him. "Thank you."

Cornelius removed his hand, and looked around the spotless kitchen and front room. He furrowed his thick brows in confusion. He didn't see the one person he wanted to. She wasn't in either room. Cornelius looked back at Wilbur.

"Where is your mother?" He asked. "Wasn't she going to keep an eye on you?"

Wilbur pointed up the stairs. "I think mom went to go shower," He started to explain. "after she said good-bye to Uncle Art and Gaston. When she came back she was dripping water everywhere." Wilbur reached down to begin tying the garbage bag together. "Grandma Lucille watched me the rest of the five minutes it took to get mom's mac-and-cheese off the floor." Wilbur tossed the black bag over his shoulder and started for the garage to take it out.

Cornelius reached out to pinch Wilbur's shirt by the sleeve. His face scrunched up. "Speaking of showers. You are in desperate need of one." Wilbur slapped his hand away, so he would release his shirt. "After you take that out. Go make yourself smell better."

Wilbur groaned. "Fine." He stomped off towards the garage, mumbling under his breath. Mumbled something about hating showers and being clean.

Cornelius shrugged it off and headed up to his bedroom as well. A sudden draft washed over him and caused his shoulders to shake.

' _Maybe I should check that out this weekend.'  
_

He pushed open the door to his bedroom and stepped inside. When the door closed, he raised his brow at the sight of the room. The ceiling light was barely on. Giving the room a faint glow. A feeling of relaxation. But it also felt humid. The entire bedroom was swallowed in steam. The steam formed in many swirls in the air. The large window was fogged. The constant lightning in the clouds were smudged and fuzzy.

Cornelius turned his head to the open bathroom door, when the sound of the shower water turning off and the glass door opening. He headed for the bathroom, slipping his lab coat off his shoulders and tossed it on the floor. Right over Franny's dress. He slipped inside the extra steamy bathroom and saw his wife step out of the shower. His eyes widen and his cheeks started to burn.

Franny was wringing her dark hair out of the extra water. She shook her hands, and grabbed her wrap-around towel, and pressed it around her body. When Franny looked up finally, she jumped in her spot.

"AH!" Her hand griped her towel. "Cornelius! Don't do that."

Cornelius chuckled. "I didn't mean to scare you, honey." He explained. "I just got home. Wilbur said you came up to shower."

Franny lowered her brows, but gave him a smug smile. "You could have said something instead of just standing there quietly." Franny let her hand drop from her towel, and stepped in front of the mirror. She reached up to wipe the fog with her hand and saw her eyes look at him. "Even with my hair wet, my cowlick still finds a way to stick up. It drives me crazy."

Cornelius wrapped his hands around her stomach, pulled her back against his chest, and rested his chin on her shoulders. "I love your cowlick. It defines apart of you. Just like Wilbur's." He pressed his lips to her cheek. He feels her soft hands place over his wrapped around her stomach.

Cornelius moved his lips down her cheek. Down her neck, and to her collar bone. Giving it a slight nick.

He saw her eyes flutter closed and her head tilt to the side in the mirror. He feels her soft fingers rest on his cheek.

"Hm, what are you doing Cornelius?" She asked.

He smiled against her collar bone. "Loving you." Was his only reply. He heard his wife gasp when his grip tightened around her. Cornelius brushed his lips back up her collar bone, past her neck and to her cheek. He felt his wife shutter from his warm breath moving over her skin. He lifted his mouth to her ear. "I'm sorry that I've been busy and distracted lately. Being kept away from you." He whispered. "Let me make it up to you."

Suddenly he turned Franny around so he could look into her eyes. He felt her hands grab his shoulders. Her eyes stare into his. "Let me show you I haven't forgotten about you." His hands move up her back. Slowly. One stops where her towel and skin meet and the other slipped into her damp hair. His fingers grip the towel around her body, and began to pull it from her.

Franny suddenly pulled back from her husband. Her body hitting the counter of their double sink. Her fingers wrap around his arms, stopping him from pulling her towel fully from her body. "Wait!" Franny frantically looked at their bedroom door. "What about Wilbur? Your parents?"

Cornelius smirked at her. With a quick motion, he picked her up and moved them both into the bedroom. Turning out the bathroom light on his way. He dropped her on the bed, and sat next to her. His fingers played with her hair. "Well Wilbur is taking a shower at the moment and most likely will stay in his room the rest of the night. Playing chargeball or doing something with Carl." He twisted the strand of hair around his finger. "My parents never bother us at this time of night. They probably went to sleep already." Franny bit her lip. "So stop worrying Franny. Tonight, my focus is you." Cornelius pressed his forehead on hers. "I have been away by our latest product at the Industries and I've put that first instead of you." His voice fell to a whisper like the rain that still poured outside. "Let me prove you are always first."

When his words stopped, Cornelius opened his eyes to stare into Franny's. She was looking into his. Those beautiful eyes. A rich brown. Like chocolate.

"But you have put me first. Last night-"

"Last night I was more focused on what happened at the office Monday than the date I took you on." Cornelius sighed. "That's not fair on you. You've stood by me all these years and put up with all my late nights in the lab. All my breakthroughs while I'm asleep. You deserve the world and I want to give it to y-"

Franny suddenly grabbed the sides of his face and forced him to look at her. Her brown eyes held seriousness in them. "You listen to me Cornelius Robinson." Her tone matched the look in her eyes. "You are the most wonderful man I have ever met. You bend over backwards to keep me first. I know that you can't always do that. I know that by now. I can't have you every second of the day. I never have, but that doesn't mean I forget that you put me first. When you go crazy about reminding me, I already know."

Cornelius removed her hands from his face, and moved a strand of hair from covering her eye like a curtain. He tucked it behind her ear. "I really did marry the perfect woman." He traced his fingers down the side of her face and gripped her chin. "Is it my turn to bit your lip?"

Franny gasped and released her lip. He slowly lowered his head to give her a kiss. With their lips only inches apart, he could feel her warm breath hit against his. He noticed her breath hitched in her throat. Cornelius brushed his lips with hers, and he smiled.

Both Cornelius and Franny jumped up and fell off the bed. Cornelius' hand had pressed Franny's towel to the bed. When they both fell the velcro on her towel came undone, and dropped around her. Cornelius grabbed the towel and wrapped it around her shoulders. Franny smiled, and they both stood. She fixed her towel while they both stared at the window.

' _What was that?'_

* * *

 **Finally! I was able to get this chapter up. Exciting! Thank you for the follows, favs, and review. It made my day! Glad to know people actually like this story.  
Will Cornelius ever get to kiss his wife?! Something always seems to stop him when he's so close. haha. Anyway...  
** **Now, please read and enjoy. Review if wanted, and see you in the next chapter.**


	10. Wrath

Wrath

 _Todayland: Wednesday, August 19th, 2037_

' _ **O** h my.'  
_

I watch as the door to their bedroom opens, and her slender form enters; closing the door with her back. She quickly turns the bedroom light up. Only dimly though. Giving the room a warm glow. She moves quickly through the room. Her ebony hair damp, tangled, and wild dancing around her back.

I saw her get caught in the rain after she said good-bye to her older brother's. Well more like she stood on the porch in a daze and didn't even notice the rain dropping onto her skin.

' _With her brother's Gaston and Art gone from the house, that only leaves those parents of Cornelius, Bud and Lucille I think their names are. Wilbur, their son and that robot. I still don't know his name.'_ I reach into my pocket and pull out an old wrinkled piece of paper. My eyes scan over the written names. Each member of the Robinson family. _'With all the members gone, except of course Cornelius, Franny, Wilbur, Bud and Lucille, I won't have a problem with my plans. I'll have less people to avoid.'  
_

I quickly cross off Gaston and Art's names from the list, and shove it back into my pocket. I look back through the window, and my eyes widen. Franny was standing inside the bathroom, the bathroom door wide open, only in her underwear.

' _When did she take her dress off?'_ I ask myself. My eyes search the room. I lock my eyes on her discarded lavender, black, and silver dress on the floor. _'Lavender is such a lovely color on her.'  
_

I avert my eyes to the bathroom. Even with the door wide open, I can only see half her body because of where she was standing. I twist my neck as far as I could to get a better view point, but it doesn't help. The bathroom suddenly started to fog up. Causing her form to become fuzzy. As the room becomes harder to see into, I squint my eyes to try and capture the image as long as I can. I see her move her arms behind her, but I'm not sure exactly what she is doing.

' _Is she removing her underwear? I think they were light blue. Not entirely sure though.'  
_

I figure out where the fog is coming from. It's not fog its steam. She must be getting into the shower. I sigh and slump against the rough wall outside the house, and wait.

The rain beats down against my face when I looked up at the sky. The lightning continuing within the clouds. Not a single strand of high voltage energy came down to strike the ground. I bang my head against the wall. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

* * *

'' **W** hat happened?' _I tried to open my eyes, but they refused to unglue themselves. My mind tells my hands to rub my eyes. I wait to feel them press hard enough that when I open them I'll see dark circles move around. I feel nothing touch my eyes. My arms don't move. I grow frustrated with the lack of control I seem to have over my body. I feel nothing._ 'Is my finger moving?'

 _I try to relax my body, but I can't feel if it does it or not.  
_

"Sir?" _I hear the sudden voice speak not too far from me.  
_

'Are they talking to me?' _I wonder inside my head._ 'I hope they know I most likely won't answer. I don't seem to have any control of my body.'

 _A clicking echo rotates around my ears._ 'Heels?'

"Excuse me?" _A female voice becomes clear.  
_

 _The sound of someone waking up beside me, and pushing their way out of a chair.  
_

"Doctor!" _Their voice sounded shocked and relieved with one word._ "Will he be okay?"

 _The soft exhale of breath filled the silence that creeped along._ 'What the hell is going on? Are they talking about me?'

"It is hard for me to say. The incident damaged his lungs. The explosion pushed against his chest and caused his rib cage to break in several places. We were able to stop the bleeding into his chest cavity."

'WHAT?!' _My mind screams._ 'Bleeding in my chest cavity? Broken ribs?' _My thoughts circle around for an answer. A memory of what caused me to become so broken. Nothing opens my lost confusion.  
_

"Will he ever wake up?" _The second voice asks. A familiar voice. I know that voice, but the face doesn't show.  
_

"I don't know the answer to that." _The crinkle of paper fills the air for a few seconds after she stopped talking._ "Only he knows if he will wake up."

* * *

 **I** jump forward from the house, and start to fall towards the ground. I quickly hit the heels of my boots together to turn the hover feature on. My body suddenly halts to a stop. I push my feet down and move my body back up to the window.

I spot Franny. She is sitting on the bed with a towel wrapped around her. Cornelius was sitting beside her. His fingers having a hold of her chin. I squint my eyes to get as close of a look as I could. I take notice that his lips brush over hers.

' _Why does he deserve to kiss his wife!'  
_

The anger inside of me boils over my mind, and I ball my hands at my sides.

' _He doesn't deserve to have her. She is everything opposite of him. She cares. He doesn't.'  
_

Before my mind could register anything more. My fist whacks against the glass of the window. The glass around my fist cracks. Pieces fell through and down to the carpet below it. The crack spread rather far out. I suddenly realize my action, and jerk my hand and body away from the window. I fly away from the house quickly before I'm seen by anyone.

As I fly away into the city, through the storm, I feel the warm rush of blood flow down my fingers and drip off.

' _This is enough. I'm putting my plan into action. Phase two will begin tomorrow night.'  
_

I crush my fingers into my palm. Feeling shards of glass dig deeper into my hand.

' _I will make you hurt Cornelius. Just like you made me hurt.'_ I chuckle to myself. _'Be prepared my friend. Your entire world is about to change.'_

* * *

 **Well, I guess our villain has been sent over his limit. With his plan falling into action, what threat will he become to the fun-loving Robinson family? What happened to him that focuses all his anger to Cornelius? Was he really the cause of his pain? Guess we'll find out soon enough.  
Read and Review. Thank you! 3**


	11. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven  
Wilbur

 _Todayland: Thursday, August 20th, 2037_

" **C** arl," Wilbur held his hands out in front of him. Waving them around, and giving him an irritated look. "this is serious!"

Carl stretched his arm out to place his hand on Wilbur's chest, pushing him back a few inches. "Step back little buddy," Carl turned his back to Wilbur and crossed an arm over his chest, and rested the other on his chin in a light fist. "I don't know you anymore."

Wilbur raised one of his brows and gave Carl's back a confused look. "What on earth could you mean by that?"

Carl extended his neck out and shoved his face inches from Wilbur's; his back still to the thirteen-year-old. "I _mean_ how you've changed over the past couple days! You have been acting different. Your attitude has changed directions. Even since the summer began you've managed to get in some form of trouble almost every day."

Wilbur lowered his brow, and stood straight. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about what you did Tuesday night!" Carl spun his body around. His hands flew up into the air. "When you came back from that shopping trip with your mom? You kept going on about how you had to find the scanner. Since you were so determined to find it, you broke into the family basement-"

"Actually I didn't break into the basement." Wilbur pointed out.

"You hacked the keypad code-"

"You gave me the new code." Wilbur rolled his eyes.

"You stole your dad's disassembler ray-"

"You can't steal something if it technically belongs to you." Wilbur looked bored with Carl's lecture.

"And you destroyed the house." Carl finished. Not even seeming to have heard Wilbur's interruptions.

Wilbur raised a single finger, his moth opened like he was going to say something to counter his last statement, but his mouth closed and his finger bent. He scowled at his best friend. "Fine. I give you points for the last one."

Carl quickly opened his middle compartment and a third hand popped out holding a small note pad. Carl takes the pencil and makes a mark. Wilbur gawks at him. With a smug smile, Carl shows him the page. "I've been keeping track of all the points you and I get." Wilbur glared at him. Carl had way more than he did. "But of course I know most of the time I am right when it comes to you and your crazy plans."

Wilbur pointed a finger at Carl while he put the pad and pencil back inside him. "My plans are brilliant! The only problem is that mom always seems to know about them and catches me."

Carl tangled his arms together, shifted his weight to one hip and lifted a brow. "To be honest, your last plan wasn't all that brilliant. I'm not so sure how well you thought that one through little buddy." Carl stated to his best friend.

Wilbur sighed. "Yeah, I know. But to be honest I did it to try and help ease my mind and for mom." Carl only stared at him. "Look, this plan will work."

"You know something Wilbur. You would avoid so much punishment if you just told your mom the truth. She knows you have to do a history project during the summer. Although you told her you already finished it, what is the harm of telling her you didn't-"

Wilbur gave him a 'are you serious' look before it turned to fear. Wilbur grabbed Carl's arm, pulled him down to his level. He slapped his hand over his mouth to silence his words. Wilbur quickly turned his head every direction it could. He was trying to see if his mom was around. Fearing that she would pop up at any second, Wilbur pulled Carl towards a hall closet. He shoved the robot inside and closed the door on him.

"You haven't told anyone about that have you?" Wilbur asked with worry. "About my project not really being done?"

Even though Carl's voice was slightly muffled, Wilbur could still hear his words. "You know I keep your secrets on the down low. But if you were just honest you wouldn't have need to sneak around and do things that get you in trouble."

Wilbur's shoulders relaxed from their tense state. "Where's the fun in telling mom the truth. It's more fun to go on adventures with your best robot friend. She'll never know." No reply came from the closet. "Come on Carl, we've been in tighter spots than this. It's no big deal."

Wilbur heard the hangers screech across the metal bar inside the closet. "Oh, no way man! You are on your own with this one!" Wilbur's shoulders slumped and his smile disappeared. "Thanks to you waiting until the last minute, you need to do something that will only lead you into trouble, and when your mom and dad find out what you are about to do they will kill you. Then me. Then you again."

Wilbur rolled his eyes and started to silently walk around the door; moving his fingers up and down to his mouth mocking his robot friend.

"But not this time, little buddy! Cause I'm gonna hide in this closet!"

"Come on, Carl. We can do this without being caught." Wilbur tried to encourage.

"Get away from me!" Carl shouted. "Get on your skateboard and fly little monkey. Fly!"

Wilbur started to walk around, heavy on his feet, and stomped his foot hard. He shot an irritated glare at his friend. "Carl!"

Wilbur heard the crumple of paper shoved from under the door. Wilbur picked it up to read the message that was written.

' _GO AWAY! Heart Carl'  
_

Wilbur made a face. A face that gave away he had a sneaky idea.

Wilbur dropped this face and replaced it with a rather upset one. His lip popped out and his shoulders slumped. "Fine. This could have become an adventure that made the 'awesome list'." He wiped a fake tear away. "Going back in time. Capturing a great event in history. Being able to boast that you helped me get an A, but no," Wilbur put the back of his hand over his forehead in a dramatic pose. "Wilbur Robinson is flyin' this one," Wilbur fell to his knees, and a fake sob bounced around the walls. "solo." The fake crying continued.

"Do-" Wilbur heard Carl speak, his frustrated and angry voice gone. "Don't be doin' that." Wilbur continued to cry hysterically on the hall floor. The closet door opened with Carl stepping out. "Look you got me." His shoulders drop. "I'm in."

Without a second to pass, Wilbur's cries stopped and he was back on his feet. "Great!" He grabbed Carl by his arm, and dragged him down the hall towards his bedroom. As they walked through Wilbur's double door bedroom, Carl pulled his arm free from Wilbur's grip.

"So, how is this plan of yours supposed to work? You know, how do you plan to keep it from your parents that you used the time machine, _again_." Carl asked.

"That," Wilbur spun to give him a wide tooth grin. "is an excellent question. Look, it's gonna all work out." Carl stood in front of Wilbur ready to listen to him speak a plan he thought was brilliant and foolproof. "First, I have to sneak through the front room to the doors between the staircases to get to the garage outside."

"I know how to get to the garage Wilbur. I live here too." Carl interrupted.

"Right. Anyhow, that shouldn't be too hard considering this," Wilbur wrapped his hands behind his back. "dad is at work, grandma and grandpa are at the park with Buster still, and mom is in her music lounge. Everyone else is gone." Wilbur started to head toward his large Oakwood desk against the far wall; opposite of his bed. "With everyone here busy all I have to do is go back in time, sketch a few pictures of the first World War, and get back home before mom notices and dad gets back from work." Wilbur looks at the clock hung on his wall. "I have two hours before mom is done. Knowing dad, he won't be home until late tonight."

"What makes you think your mom won't come looking for you within the next two hours?" Carl questioned.

"That's an easy one." Wilbur grabbed his messenger bag on top of his desk next to the lava lamp he found when he cleaned, the one his dad made with pictures of them three. "Mom is busy getting in as much practice as she can with Frankie and the Band. She's also worrying over a piano piece she has been writing. She has some music contest or whatnot this weekend. She was nominated to try and win some award. I forget the name of both the contest and award."

"How do you know that?" Carl questioned with surprise.

Wilbur pulled the strap of his bag over his head, and turned back to Carl. He shrugged. "I found the letter earlier this morning on one of the coffee tables in the front room. I didn't even know she played the piano."

Carl gave him a shrug back. Carl didn't seem to know that about her either. "Try not to take too long Wilbur. I don't want to have to cover for you, again. You know," Carl put his hands on his hips. "like I did for the invisible cow incident."

"Again that wasn't my fault. Now, I just have to find where moms sketchbook is."

Carl pointed in the direction of Franny's music lounge. "With your mom."

Wilbur's shoulders tensed. "Great. Now, I just have to grab the sketchpad from mom, then get to the garage." Wilbur turned under the threshold of his door to Carl. "Carl, theme song please."

Carl lifted a balled hand to his lips, and began to make trumpet sounds. His pinky moving along with it. Wilbur glared at him.

"The other one please."

Carl started to play the other theme song, and Wilbur raced out of the room and down the hall.

' _How hard can this be?'_

* * *

 **I** t turned out that it was difficult to get the sketchpad from his mother's music lounge.

Wilbur had to hide several times behind pillars, and under the table to get it. His mother was busy, of course, but she would turn her head to look around while she conducted her frogs. Wilbur barely made it out before his mother could spot him. After he shoved it inside his bag, Wilbur went for the time machine. After he punched in the correct numbers, he took off into the sky.

That's where he sat now.

His back rested against the glass windshield, his knees brought close to his chest, and the sketchbook rested against his thighs. The black sketching pencil between his fingers and tapped against his chin. His brown eyes stared out into the battle field a distance below him. Far, so no one could see him. He quickly glanced at the almost finished final sketch before he looked back up.

Fire. Fire and gas flew up into the air.

The ear vibrating bang of cannons and guns could still make him cringe; even at this distance. The humming of the fighter planes passing by from almost every direction. Wilbur placed his pencil back down on the thick tan paper. Moving his hand over to finish his sketch, his thoughts turn away from the drawing.

This war. A war that was all triggered by the assassination of one guy. Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria, heir to the throne of Austria-Hungary on June twenty-eighth, nineteen-fourteen. A four year, three month, and two week blood bath until peace treaties were offered. Four years' soldiers had to endure the fight. Being shot. Getting burns from the different gases being dropped or thrown at them. Being blown into pieces.

Thirty-eight million soldiers.

Thirty-eight million men were killed, wounded, or went missing.

Wilbur made the last stroke to his picture, and put his pencil behind his ear. He lifted the book up from his lap, and glanced at it.

' _Good thing both my parents have artistic talent.'  
_

With that thought, Wilbur shoved the closed sketchbook into his bag. Just as he tossed the flap over his ear piece beeped.

"Go ahead Carl." Wilbur lifted the hatch up, and flopped inside; tossing his bag in the back seat.

"Wilbur," his voice called in his ear filled with concern. "come back, please? If you don't you'll just get caught like always." Wilbur pushed the red button to start the time machine up. "You'll shift the blame to me. We'll fight, and not talk for a week. Then get tired of not talking, you'll come up with another crazy plan, and I'll get blamed again."

Wilbur rolled his eyes, while punching in the numbers to his correct time period. "Would you relax Carl?" Wilbur moved the wheel to head towards the sky. "Operation History Project is complete." The familiar blue and purple bubble surrounds him. "I'm headed back now."

The bubble engulfed Wilbur in a bright white light. Wilbur gripped the wheel tightly. No matter how many times he has used the time machine, he'll never get used to the spinning feel he got inside his stomach. The weightlessness of his stomach floating around like the wings of hundreds of butterflies. He blinked slowly, everything went in sudden sloth motion before his eyes. He let a breath out, and he could hear the slow exhale of it escaping.

The white light shrinks back into the bubble, and the bubble popped into the water below. Wilbur filled his chest up with air and headed home. The sun was near setting. The rolling clouds turned shades of purple, pink and orange. He jerked the wheel towards him to slow the car down to a hover. He slowly lowered the machine down into the garage, and turned it off when he was in the right spot. When the hatch opened, Wilbur put his bag over his chest and jumped out. He landed on his feet. Wilbur walked under the light-blue tube, and the floor beneath him lit up. The sudden suction began, lifting his body up and moved it side to side, up and down. Wilbur was dropped to the floor when his tube ended in his room. Carl spun around to glance at the thirteen-year-old.

"So, how'd it go?"

Wilbur fished his mom's sketchbook out to toss it at Carl. The robot wasn't all prepared to catch it right away. He fumbled with it before both his hands caught it.

"See for yourself." Wilbur tossed his bag back on his desk and leaned his body against it with his arms across lightly.

Carl opened the book up to scan the page. He raised a brow. "I thought you were going to draw pictures of the war, not this." Carl turned the book to Wilbur. Showing him sketched pictures of his father.

Wilbur's eyes widened with shock. He quickly grabbed the book to look at the sketches before him. "What?"

"Looks like your mom has a great hand." Carl pointed out.

Both boys glance over the several sketches. On the first page is a picture of his father much younger than he is now. Wilbur saw he was sitting on the window seat in one of the halls. One of his hands held his place in an open book and his other holding his chin. His face was not turned fully to the picture, but half was sketched of him looking out the window. On the opposite page where three smaller sketches. Three facial expressions.

Happy. Sad. Irritation.

Curiosity of his mother's sketches, Wilbur turned the next page. These two pages had one of his father and the other her brothers standing together. Art on his toes trying to put bunny ears over Gaston. The page was turned and Wilbur's face burned. He dropped the book to the floor with a thunk. He just saw a picture of his dad naked. Though he was wearing a towel. Thank goodness.

' _Mom's got…some…uh…great skill when it comes to detail.'  
_

Looking back at the sketches, Wilbur picked the book back up to see a few drawings of himself. He flipped through to see him drawn at different ages. Wilbur couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. He turned the last page of his mother's pictures and found where his were. Not wanting to lose his again, Wilbur carefully tore them out.

"Here are mine." Wilbur handed them to Carl. He slammed the book closed and tucked it under his arm. "I'm gonna go grab something to eat. Keep those safe."

Carl nodded while Wilbur walked out.

Upon entering the front room, he tossed the book on the same coffee table where his mom's letter was earlier, and went to go raid the kitchen fridge. His ears picked up the soft, sad sound of the piano ending. He held the fridge door open as he strained his ears to hear anything more.

With no other sound, Wilbur shrugged and looked through the very limited options in the near empty fridge.

' _Why is there no food in here? There is always food in the fridge!'_ Wilbur's mouth formed a thin line. _'Oh, right. I'm the reason. Wonder when mom is going to go shopping?'  
_

With that thought, Wilbur grabbed applesauce and chocolate pudding.

* * *

 **Chapter Seven is up! So exciting! Another one of Wilbur's plans put into action. Poor Carl dragged in it again. Hope you guys enjoyed it.  
** **I re-wrote this chapter like three times, or was it four. I don't know. But I did a lot. Kept hitting blank spots. But I got it done.  
** **I'll see you guys in the next chapter!  
Read + Review!**


	12. Chapter Eight

**New chapter for your guys. This one is in a new view. I wasn't planning on using her, but it fit perfectly. It isn't every long. Just gives you a feel of Franny's talent with the piano. There is no way she can conduct frogs without being able to play music herself. Enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter Eight  
Lucille

 _Todayland: Thursday, August 20th, 2037_

 **L** ucille gathered the mixing bowl in her arm. The wooden spoon wrapped within her free hand.

Her eyes scanned the page of the opened cookbook through her spectacles to make sure she remembered all the ingredients to her ideal dessert.

Peach Pound Cake. An old recipe her mother used to make.

Lucille followed what the directions said as best as she could. Though she remembered the recipe like the back of her hand, but sometimes things would slip from her mind. With a squint of her eyes, she leaned toward the worn, faded page. She began to mix each ingredient like she was supposed to. When her mixture was done, she poured it out evenly on the readied pan. She grabbed the pan and put it onto the center rack in the preheated oven.

Now she had to wait sixty to seventy minutes.

Lucille started to clean up her mess. She threw all the eggs shells into the garbage bag. All the bowls, measuring cups, and spoons were placed in the sink. With one of the rags grabbed from the drawer, she wiped up the spilled mess of vanilla extract, salt, flour, and peach juice. Once the counter top was cleaned, she dropped the rag down, then began to clean her dirtied dishes.

The water was scolding hot, but she remembered the gloves this time. Learned from her last mistake. It didn't take her long to clean the few dishes she used to make her pound cake. Though she did think as she took the gloves and turned the water off, that the fridge was low on, well, everything still. It was odd to her, since Franny never let it stay nearly empty like that.

' _Wonder if she's had a chance to go to the store since my grandson's latest mishap.'_ Lucille thought to herself. _'I'll ask her if she needs a list made so she knows what to get.'_

Lucille knew the music lounge was the best place to find her wonderfully talented daughter-in-law at this time of night. The time of night her son, Cornelius should be coming home. Her tiny heeled feet carried her down the brightly colored hall, toward the double doors with quarter notes for door knobs.

Suddenly, Lucille stopped her feet not far from her destination. She saw that the music lounge doors were both opened. But this was not why she stopped. Lucille stopped in her tracks because a different sound emerged from the red-violet room.

Every member of the Robinson house knew the type of music Franny's frogs played. Their music had a jazz feel to them. Causing the bodies of everyone who stood to listen to swing to the beat. Everyone loved to hear it pour from this room, but this sound was different. Nothing that she had ever heard Franny conduct her frogs to play.

It was a beautiful sound; one she hadn't heard in years. The sweet sound drifted from the opened doors through the air of the hall. The sound embraced Lucille in a hug of sadness that traveled through her heart. The beauty of the saddened sound drew Lucille closer to the room it came from. The closer she became to the threshold; she could hear another instrument being played along. Lucille gripped the door frame and leaned her head inside.

Franny sat, with her back towards the door, on a polished white and gold bench. Placed in front of her was the grand white piano that seemed to sparkle in the dim lit room. The skirt of her soft green and cream dress hung over the back of the bench and shifted every time her body moved. Her upper body was slightly leaned over the elegant instrument, bringing it to life with her fingers dancing over the ivory and black keys. The polished white wood held the keys from underneath in which her fingers danced across.

Lucille was awed by Franny playing. She watched as Franny's body moved along with her fingers. The sway of the sound was joined in by the violin. Creating a strong feel of emotional change to the air. Lucille placed her left hand over her heart and gave a small smile. She closed her eyes to listen.

Her body moved slowly from side to side.

"Mom," A male voice broke her trance, and caused her to turn her head with alarm. "where is-"

Lucille quickly placed her hand over Cornelius' chest to stop him. Her other hand placed a finger over her lips. She saw him give a nod of his head, and she pulled him towards the doorway. Showed him her reason. When his head peeped around to look inside, his mouth opened slightly.

"Franny…?" He whispered.

Both mother and son, stood to listen as the music continued to flow. Lucille placed her hand over his arm. When his eyes looked down at her, she nudged her head towards the room. Without having to say a word, Cornelius understood. He bent down to give her a peck on the cheek, smiled at her, then took the few steps to enter his wife's music lounge.

With a smile, Lucille walked back down the hall towards the kitchen to check on her cake. The sad music came to a stop.

* * *

 **If you wanna know what the music piece sounds like that Franny played. Look up 'Roy Todd Twilight' on Youtube. The right one will be the one with the picture saying Piano Essence.  
** **Hope you enjoy this short chapter! Next chapter will be up shortly!  
Read and Review 3  
** _Marvel-comic-girl_ **: OH! I'm glad you enjoyed Carl calling Wilbur a little monkey. I thought it was funny too.  
** _Guest_ **: I'm so happy to know I'm doing a wonderful job and you are enjoying this story my Guest Reviewer.**


	13. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine  
Cornelius

 _Todayland: Thursday, August 20th, 2037_

 **F** or the first night in weeks, Cornelius had left the office early. Well if seven-thirty counted as early. Usually the building was starting to shut down after six-thirty.

His footsteps hurried through the dark lobby, the few theft prevention lights kept him from tripping over his own two left feet. He gave a wave of his hand and said 'good night' toward Bobby, who was seated in the chair at the front desk and his feet rested on the calendar upon the dark wood. The glass doors slid open, letting the cold night air, colder than the night before, hold a tight grip over him. The chill slipped its way under his black dress pants and the sleeves of his white lab coat. The chilled air caused his body to jerk in a shiver.

The rain had stopped about twenty minutes ago, but for how long was the question. The small break in the clouds let the setting sun seep through. The sky had been turned a deep orange with spots of yellow blended in. Cornelius enjoyed the clear sight for just a moment more before he adjusted the strap to his leather bag and headed for the car. His feet stepped through several puddles and his keys were already within his hand. When he reached his vehicle, he held his keys to the door and it gave off a soft _ding_ before the chip opened the door. Once Cornelius got the car hovered in the air, he turned the wheel toward his home.

With the constant down pour going on, the sky seemed to be nearing empty from the traveling bubbles and other flying cars. The rain caused seeing very difficult, like thick fog before your eyes, so people got home as quickly and safely as they could. Cornelius had no trouble getting home faster than before because of the less traffic before him. The trip home, on a normal day, was a fifteen-minute drive, but tonight he landed the flying car within eleven. He pulled the silver handle to open the door, reached for his bag filled with papers on the passenger seat, then walked over to the yellow tinted travel tub in the garage that would lead him to the front room. Slipping the strap over his shoulder, Cornelius stood under the tube. The floor lit up and the suction pulled his body through until it reached the exit. A few seconds before his feet touched the ground once more, Cornelius could hear an unfamiliar sound flood the space.

His brows crunched together as he spun around on his heels. A beautiful melody shifted through the air. The sound swimming in circles around his ears.

' _That sound.'_ His thoughts raced. _'I've heard it before. At least I think I have.'  
_

Cornelius listened to the sweet yet sad tone while he dropped his bag on one of the couches in the front room. With a hint of where it would be coming from, where all music came from in the house, he moved his feet down the left hall where his wife's music lounge was. The closer his feet got him to the room, the louder the sound became. Peeked around the door frame, he spotted his mother. There was no mistaking it was her. The yellow dress. Her different colored sleeves. The large pink tinted bun she always wore. He saw her body was swaying slowly back and forth to the sad rhythm of the song. Cornelius made his way over to her side.

' _Was Franny trying something new with her frogs?'_ Cornelius wondered in his head. _'The sound is complete opposite of her usual swinging upbeat that everyone wants to dance to when they stop to listen, not want to make you think deeply and feel a need to cry.'  
_

Once he reached his mother, he parted his lips. "Mom?" He saw his voice disturbed her. "Where is-"

Her hand made its way to his chest, stopping the rest of his words from escaping. Her finger pressed against her lips. He gave her a nod of his head in understanding. She pulled him toward the doorway to show him her reason. He poked his head around the doorframe, his mouth opened slightly.

"Franny…?" His voice barely formed the whisper. _'playing the piano?'  
_

Both him and his mother stood in silence as the music continued to flow from the elegant white instrument. Cornelius watched Franny's long, thin fingers flow across the ivory keys. Creating the sound with each one she pressed. His gaze was torn from his wife when he felt his mother touch his arm. When he met his eyes with hers, she nudged her head inside. Without a word spoken, Cornelius gave her a peck on her cheek and a smile. His body straighten before he took the few steps to enter Franny's music lounge.

His steps stopped about two feet from her. His hands shoved themselves into his coat pockets and he continued to listen. He hadn't heard music come from that piano since the day he said 'I do' to the woman sitting at the bench. The song came to a stop after the last few notes rang through from her fingers. He watched Franny's fair fingers lift away from the keys. Her hand lifted up to pat the single frogs head that stood on top of the polished wood. The violin held in his grasp of webbed fingers. Cornelius waited a few seconds more to see if she would turn around to be aware of his presence, but she had gone unnoticed.

His lips smack together, and he rocked on the balls of his black shoes. His larger, rough hands clap together. "You know,"

Franny jumped from utter surprise. Her hand flew from the smartly dressed frog, into the folder of music sheets. The pages glided all over the floor.

"Cornelius!" The same hand gripped her heart. Tried to calm the quick beat it must have taken.

"I think the last time I have ever heard you play was at our wedding reception." Cornelius finished. Franny seemed to have calmed herself, and moved to bend down on the floor to start cleaning up the papers she knocked over.

"That's because it _was_ the last time you or anyone heard me play." She stated.

Cornelius bent down as well to help her collect the papers. "Well, it was beautiful." He gathered a few in a stack. "What you played just now."

Franny stood up with her unorganized stack of papers, and Cornelius followed after. "Hmm." Franny said while she grabbed the sheet music from her husband and stuffed them into the green folder. "It didn't sound anything like it used to." She closed the folder. "I wrote that piece when I was ten. When I played it then…it sounded so different." Her fingers started to bend a corner page back and forth. "I felt the music. I felt the keys differently than I do now."

"To me, it sounded like you never stopped." He got a small smile from her lips. "Can I ask you?"

Franny's smile turned into one of confusion. "Ask me what?"

"What made you want to start playing again?" Cornelius nudged his head toward the piano. The frog was already gone. "I mean," He took in a deep breath, knowing that he was bringing up a touchy subject for Franny. One only she and him knew. "I was under the impression you weren't ever going to touch those keys again. Not since _'that'_ happened. Exception to my wedding gift, of course."

Franny took a few steps before she placed the folder down on top of the white surface. She grabbed the torn envelope, turned back to Cornelius, and wrapped an arm across her chest. Her fingers gripped the upper part of her arm that held the letter. She held it out for him to take. He reached for it, and pulled the single folded paper from it.

"It came this morning when I grabbed the mail." She stated. He raised a brow at her, and unfolded the page to glanced at who it was from. When he looked back up at her her arms were loosely wrapped around her chest. He started to skim the page. "I've been invited, as a guest, to be the final performance of the Montreal International Music Symphony. The letter states that they've been keeping an eye on me since I was a child. When I first started playing. The head director said it would be an honor to have the _'music prodigy Francesca'_ be their finale."

Cornelius tore his eyes from the printed words to his wife, who was leaned against the piano. Her arms still crossed. "Franny," he searched his brain for the right words to express toward this. He felt a strong pull of joy for his wife. "this is wonderful news! I'm very happy for you."

Franny gave a half smile along with a nod. "It is."

Her unexcited mood didn't go unnoticed by his eyes. Cornelius folded her letter back up and inside the envelope while he walked up to stand before her. After he dropped the letter on top of her worn green folder, his fingers wrapped around her lower arms and started to untangle them from each other so he could hold her wrists. Taking them into his hands lightly.

"What is it? One would think you would be the most excited." His eyes searched her face.

She let a long breathy sigh from her lips. "I am," he saw her face mold into one of searching. "overjoyed by the honor. Having a trip paid for for the whole weekend? It's amazing."

"Then why do I feel like you aren't happy about this?" He questioned her. His fingers lift her chin up after she looked at the floor.

Franny closed her eyes for a second before she reopened them to speak again. "I…I haven't played since I was fifteen. That's twenty-five years, Cornelius." She removed a hand from his so she could tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her fingers stay wrapped around that ear. "Playing that song that I used to play flawlessly shows me how out of practice I truly am. I don't feel my own playing of music like I used to. It's not going to sound anything like people probably remember."

"That's the thing Franny. You aren't the same. Yes, you haven't played in a long while, but from the piece I just heard you play," he pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around the small of her back. "it sounded even better than when you played for me as a child. I know that when you play at that Symphony you will show them something new." His lips found the top of her head and left a small peck.

Franny's body went limp in his arms. All the tension seemed to have left her. All her worry no more. "Do you really mean that, or are you just saying that because you're my husband and you have too?"

He pulled her from his chest, and grabbed her shoulders. "I said it because I love you."

Franny beamed with a smile, but it was short lived. "What is that?"

Cornelius looked confused. "What is what?"

"That." She pointed at his hair.

His eyes glanced up, but he only saw an inch of his own hair. "What are you looking at?"

Franny stepped onto her toes, ran her fingers through his disorderly blonde hair. She showed him her hand after she pulled it from the strands. Her palm was tinted black. His brain made the connection.

"Oh. That." He gave a nervous chuckle. "We had a mishap with an invention."

Franny gave him a knowing look. "What kind of mishap?" Asking a question she already seemed to know the answer to.

Cornelius rubbed the back of his neck. Ruffling more black soot from his hair. "It exploded. We have to start from scratch."

Franny shook her head. "Just be careful."

"Always am." He responded with a tone that he knew would give her mind a rest.

Franny let her breath out. "Now," she grabbed a hold of his arms to spin him around. "go take a shower." She gave him a smack onto his butt with her blackened hand to get him moving.

"As you wish Mrs. Robinson." He spoke before he left the room.

* * *

 _Todayland: Friday, August 21st, 2037_

 **T** he night was wild.

The rain came pelting down from the dark black clouds around ten p.m. Cornelius was bent over his desk in the lab. The single desk lamp sent the light down onto the blueprints spread across the wood. His blue eyes scanned the dark blue page. Searching over the white drawing and equations. His brain solved each one in a record of three seconds. But he couldn't seem to find the mistake he had made when creating the hover board.

The hover board idea came to him from his son, Wilbur. Last week he saw Wilbur jumping on the trampoline sponges he invented when Wilbur was a kid. While he watched him, he noticed that Wilbur was trying to stay in the air as long as possible before he landed on the second sponge. Wilbur wanted to stay in the air.

Cornelius told Wilbur he couldn't use the time machine anymore. Not since the last time. Nearly breaking the space time continuum.

His brain clicked at an idea. Wilbur was a teenager now. He enjoyed his chargeball, getting into trouble, and ridding his skateboard around the house. Cornelius took Wilbur's love of flying and skateboarding and mashed them together. He was planning on giving it to him after his first week of school. Which he would be starting in two days.

Cornelius pushed his chair from the desk to stand up. His legs needed some blood circulation back. He shot his eyes at the digital clock. One-sixteen a.m. He takes his glasses from his face to rub the soreness from his eyes. With a sigh he put his glasses back on. His brain debated on staying up to finish finding the mistake or head to bed.

' _Franny has most likely fallen asleep. Though I did leave her reading a book. She could still be awake.'_ Cornelius glanced at the blue prints once more. He made a decision. _'I think getting some rest and taking another look with a fresh mindset in the morning will do some good.'  
_

He turned the lamp off and headed for his bedroom with shuffled feet.

When he approached the door his hand hesitated once he noticed the light seeped through the crack.

' _Guess I'm putting her and myself to bed tonight.'_ With his thought and a chuckle, he walked inside.

The door closed behind him, he expected to see Franny bent kneed on the bed. But her space was empty. The bed hasn't been sat upon at all. Cornelius walked further in, while his eyes looked about the room.

' _There she is.'  
_

Franny was sprawled out on the couch. The lamp on the end table still on. The book beside her face; opened with her hand rested on the page. Cornelius walked around the couch to get a closer look at her. Franny's body was laying half on its side and half on its back. Her face was turned to the right. One of her legs was bent at the knee and tucked under the other; which was straight. Cornelius also noticed Franny hadn't even changed from her dress.

He debated on whether to let her keep sleeping as she was or to risk disturbing her peaceful rest to move her to the bed.

He didn't have long to think it over. A sudden flow of loud music came from his pants pocket. His eyes grew wide as he realized it was his cell phone. He thought who would be calling him at this hour as he tried to fish it from his pocket as quickly as he could, so he could silence it. He wasn't quick enough, for Franny stirred in her sleep and her eyes slowly opened. Her eyes fall over him with a questionable look as to why he was standing over her.

Cornelius finally got his phone from the stubborn pocket and looked at who was calling.

' _The office?'  
_

He silenced the ring when he hit the voice call answer. If the office was calling him at this late hour, then it was important. He didn't want to wake the whole house by hitting the projector button. He gave his wife an apologetic smile while he placed the phone to his ear.

"Cornelius Robinson."

His steps moved him to the back of the couch, still facing in the direction of his wife. When his face fell from his smile to one of serious concern, he saw Franny stand from the couch; wrapping the blanket around herself. It loosely hanging over her arms.

"What?!" His voice raised. This caused Franny to raise a brow at him. "I'll be right there!"

He quickly ended the call then tossed the phone on the bed. He ran into the closet. He stuffed a new shirt and pants into a bag, all while knocking over everything as he did. He reemerged into the bedroom. Franny had made her way around the couch and stood between him and the bedroom door.

"What is it, Cornelius?" Her voice cracked and horsed from the tiredness still in her. "What is going on?"

Cornelius grabbed his phone from the bed and swung back straight.

"Someone broke into the Industries."

* * *

 **Chapter Nine for you lovelies. I had a hard time writing this chapter. I don't know why, but I had bits and pieces that I wanted, but I had to fill in the blanks. I rewrote this several times, before I was happy with it.  
** **With the secrete reason as to why Franny stopped playing the piano when she was fifteen, will most likely stay that way. I mean I know why she did, but I don't think i'll put it in this story. If you are interested to know why, then I'll post a short on how it happened. It's actually a pretty good reason. Ohhh a mystery!  
** **But hope you liked. Read and Review it. Let me tell you, things are about to get interesting. Maw ha ha ha!**


	14. Invisible

Invisible

 _Todayland: Friday, August 21st, 2037_

 **M** y mother used to tell me that if I ate all my carrots I would be able to gain night vision like my pet cat. What was his name? Mikey? Of course I believed her when she said that. Having the hope of getting a sort of super power I ate carrots like they would disappear, but as I grew older I realized she only said that so I would eat them off my dinner plate. Besides, carrots wouldn't help me much now, but the binoculars I hold in front of my eyes do.

Night vision binoculars.

Curtesy of Robinson Industries. One of the few things I swiped. Cornelius' original blueprints for his hover board idea was another I stole. Of course I used the design to create the hover feature on my boots. At least I succeeded at getting the hover function to work. His exploded in the lab earlier yesterday. I remove the binoculars from my eyes and turn my wrist, so I could glance at the time on the watch I wore. Twelve forty-seven a.m.

' _Yep. Yesterday.'  
_

I lift the electronic binoculars that boost the weak night-time vision in my eyes to something many times more powerful. I choose the phosphors on the screens deliberately to make green pictures because the human eyes are more sensitive to green light. It's also easier to look at green screens for long periods of time than it is to look at black and white ones. So as my eyes scanned around the grounds of Robinson Industries, every picture is shown in green. I witnessed Cornelius leave about five hours ago. Rather early from his normal departure time. I slump back on my heals as I remove the binoculars again.

' _Let Phase Two begin.'  
_

I push my body up from the crouch position I have on top of a building across from the Industries. I move my shoulder so the strap to my soaked backpack slides down my arm; to be caught in the bend of my elbow. I stuff the gadget inside, zip it back up and toss the black, heavy bag back over my shoulder once more. I slip my arm through the other strap, and pull the strings as far as they would go, so the bag is snuggled tight against me. I step over to the ledge of the building. With my arms spread out like the wings of an eagle and my eyes closed; I step off.

My body feels weightless. My stomach flipping around inside my throat as I fall through the air. The chilling wind brushes past my face with impeccable strength that pushes my eye lids open. With forced tears slipping from the corners of my eyes I twist my body around, so the wind pounds at my back. Waving my black jacket like a flag. The rain coming down pecks at my face like frozen icicles breaking across my skin on impact. I blink my eyes several times from the water falling into them. Without a second longer, I smack the heels of my boots together. The soft bluish-white light fades on and my body is forced to stop. I lift my body to stand in the air. Halfway between the ground and the building I jumped from. With a laugh of excitement from the fall, I propel my body in the direction of the wanted building. I wrap around the 'R' shaped building to the back entrance where I'll have the most luck of not being caught sneaking in.

With no soul in sight, I land just before the four concrete steps leading to the large, metal door with a florescent blue 'R'. When my boots powered down I pulled the hood of my damp jacket back over my soaked hair, and turned my head all around to look at the surrounding area. Droplets of rain fall before my eyes, as do the few dripping off the tips of my hair. The single lamp over the door is the only light source providing my eyes with the knowledge no one has seen me. I drop my bag on the damp ground after I reached the top of the stairs. I bend down on one knee to fish out the tool I need for this task. I send a quick side glance at the hand scanner next to the door. Knowing Cornelius most of my life, he has probably removed my prints from the scanner already.

' _As well as everything else having to do with me, his closest friend.'  
_

My fingers grip around the thin, black device. I quickly pull it out and zip the bag back up. As I stand back up, I touch the glass screen to start it up. I press the device to the hand scanner. My thicker fingers start to press buttons. I enter a quick code. A screen of many boxes pops up, and I take in a deep breath. My thump presses against the green button on the screen. Flashes of numbers and capital letters fill the boxes. Changing in milliseconds; too fast for my eyes to keep track of what was being shown. As the portable decoder works to find the right code, I rub my hands together to try and warm them up. I glance over both my shoulders to make sure I am still alone.

A soft _ding_ comes from the device and the large metal door _clicks_. The thick, heavy door starts to slowly swing open. I pluck the decoder from the hand scan and shoved it into my jacket pocket. I stand beside the slightly open door and gaze in amazement.

"Now that," I raise a brow. "is a big door." My brain guesses it's about three or four feet thick.

I swing my bag back over my shoulder and slip my body through the tight open space. I send my feet down the long concrete hall. Pipes and thick wires run along the ceiling above my head. The echo of my shoes bounce along the walls as I continue to run. Still remembering every detail of how the building is laid out, I take my first right. This hall the same as the one I was just running through. My eyes spot the start of the flight of stairs.

' _Surprised he hasn't put the tubes and lifts down here yet.'  
_

I feel the heavy backpack bounce on my back when I started up the stairs. Skipping the steps two at a time. After I wound up the first two sets of steps, I come across the first door. Painted across the grey surface of the door is 'Level One' in yellow. I try to catch my breath as I think.

' _If I remember correctly the reject room is on Level Three. There should be a security camera at the top of Level Two. I'll have to temporally dismantle it, so the head guard wont spot me.'  
_

My fingers reach around to touch my back pocket of my jeans. The lump of my laser pen is still present. With a huff, I send my legs around to start the next three flights of stairs. When I reached the wrap around to the fourth set of stairs, which would bring me to the second door. I press my shoulder into the concrete wall between the two stairs. I slowly poke my head around just enough my eye can look for the camera. It is attached to the ceiling. The lens facing down the steps. I slip the pen from my back pocket. I press my thump on the button and send the green ray of light straight into the lens. I hold it there for about five seconds before I see it drop its gaze. I send my feet racing up the steps. I make it past the camera just as it rebooted like nothing was wrong with it. I give myself a victory smile before I head up the last flight of steps.

I struggle to gain control of my breath when I slowly open the door to Level Three. The hall is dark. A few lights have been left on, but they are greatly spaced out. I slip through the door and hold my hand against the heavy metal as it closes. I look down the left of the hall first. It leads to a dead end. With the right clear, I push forward. I keep my feet as light as I can, so I don't create too much sound; alerting any roaming guards of my presence.

As I come to a break in the hall, I press my back against the wall as flatly as I can. I peek my head around the corner to see if anyone was walking down. Empty. I walk past the empty hall, and continue down. I picture the map of the building inside my head.

' _If I'm correct the doors to the reject room should be coming up.'  
_

I push my feet to move faster. I run my fingers along the wall so I get a double check if I arrive. With the lights so low I can barely make out anything that's not within five feet of me. My fingers fall cold. My feet suddenly halt. Before me is a large metal door.

' _Found you. Now let us hope the code is still the same.'  
_

My thump pressed into five buttons one at a time. Six, one, eight, four, three. My heart races at the thought of the code being changed. If I entered the wrong combination the alarm will be triggered. I wouldn't have time to decode it, grab the intended item, and escape without being seen. A beat is skipped from my heart when the door slid open.

' _Bingo!'  
_

My feet carry me inside. The lightning from outside flashes the room in blue light. I reach over and wave my hand over the wall. The lights on the ceiling turn on, but barely. The light was just enough to show me all the cases holding the failed inventions. I scan my eyes around the very large room. I take a few steps deeper, and walk by a few of the cases. Looking for the one I need.

' _It should be straight down this aisle.'  
_

My eyes read the labels as I walk by several of them. I could feel the sweat starting to bead on my forehead. I lift the back of my hand to wipe it away. My feet carry me further inside. I grunt a breath out in frustration at not being able to find it.

' _Where in the world did he store it?! It was not that long ago. It should be up around the front! Wait!'  
_

Everything seems to have stopped around me. There it is. Placed on the grey lift with glass concealing it, was the bottle I needed. The item that started my quest. I lift my arm across my face and swing my elbow into the thin glass case. With one hit, the glass shatters around me. Cluttering to the marble floor. I feel shards of the glass sticking into my elbow through the jacket I wore. Blood is surely following after it, but my brain doesn't register the pain. Without wasting a second more of time, I snatch the bottle and stuff it inside my pants pocket.

"Freeze!"

Everything does seem to freeze around the area. With my hood pulled over half my face, I turn slowly to face the entrance of the room. Standing in the threshold is a guard. I _'humph'_ a smile.

"You have nowhere to go. Just give it up." His voice echoes around the walls of the room.

I reach, unnoticed, behind my back, and pull an object free from the back of my jeans.

' _I didn't want to have to use this, but looks like I have no choice.'  
_

"You've got that backwards. _You've_ got nowhere to go."

I see the brief confusion on his features, before they turned to shock. His eyes bug out from his head, and the gun he held dropped to the floor by his feet. I watch his body fall to its knees. His fingers clench at his shirt on his chest. Every muscle in the body seems to have gone limp. It fell flat onto the floor.

A deep chuckle vibrates my throat. I lower my arm to my side as I walked over to the window near me. I lift my arm again and pull my finger. The glass clutters on both the marble floor and the grass outside. I tap my boots on and lift into the air. I give a turn of my head to look at the guard lying on the floor. Blood seeps out from under him in a puddle of deep crimson. His eyes are the last thing I see before I send my body into the heart of the storm.

* * *

 **Well, that was fun. What in the world is going to happen next? More to come.  
** **See you next chapter! :)**


	15. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten  
Cornelius

 _Todayland: Friday, August 21st, 2037_

 **C** ornelius entered through the opened front doors of Robinson Industries. Blue and red lights flashed in different syncs along the far wall of the lobby. The heel of his black dress shoes fell in with the other noises that filled the space of the room. Chatter. Click of a pen. Ruffle of plastic bags being opened. Cornelius turned his head every which way, until he spotted the closet officer to him. His feet carried him toward the huddle of three men dressed in gray; talked in hushed tones.

"I want up to date on what happened." His usual calm and leveled voice was no longer present. A focused and business tone had taken over. His feet stopped him a foot away from the group.

All six pair of eyes looked him over. Started from the tip of his shoes to the last inch of his blonde hair. Their eyes fell on his. Eyes with purplish circles ringed under his blonde lashes. Exhaustion colored inside the white outer circle of his blue orbs.

"Sir," one spoke up. A steamed coffee cup in his hand. "you cannot be here. This area is off limits." His brows lowered over his eyes with annoyance and frustration. "You need to leave the building at once."

Cornelius balled his hands at his sides. Anger began to rise inside him. He didn't have time for this. He needed to find someone who would tell him what happened inside this company. He wanted answers. "I will not be leaving this spot until someone tells me what happened here tonight. I have every right to know." His thumb pressed hard into his chest. Harder than it needed too. He resisted the urge to remove his thumb and rub the, now, sore spot. "It's my company!"

All six different colored eyes grew wide when realization hit them at who stood before them. Cornelius dropped his thumb from his chest, still refusing to rub the spot, and stood before them as they gawked. He saw the officer that held the cup wave his hand at the other two. He dismissed them. Once the other two wandered away to attend to something else, the one that remained before Cornelius, turned his attention back to the slouched inventor.

"I'm sorry about earlier Mr. Robinson. For what I said. I did not recognize you. Everyone is tired and distracted at trying to figure out what went down." Cornelius simply nodded his head at the man who spoke to him. "Chief Barry. I'm leading this investigation." He held his free hand out to Cornelius. He locked his palm with Barry.

"Pleasure."

When their hands dropped from the other, Cornelius shoved his hands into the pockets of his black dress pants he had worn yesterday. He didn't bother to waste time changing after his shower last night. He knew that he would be up for a while figuring out what went wrong with the hover board. Then just when he was going to change into something more comfortable and climb into bed with his wife, he got a call. A call that ended with him being at his company at two in the morning.

Chief Barry motioned for Cornelius to follow him with a wave of his hand. His thick voice spoke the whole time he followed. Cornelius had removed his hands from the warmth of his pockets and exposed them to the chill that swept through the building. Chief Barry lead him toward the marble stairs at the far end of the room. Cornelius kept stairs around in case the tubes malfunctioned. The chief went up first and Cornelius followed second. His nonstop chatter started to make his ears ring. He focused his mind on anything but the bothersome voice before him.

Chief Barry was not a thin man by any means. His belly was round but solid. Not nearly as overweight has his Uncle Joe, but it looked a very close second. His face made like that of a new born child. Much like his son, Wilbur's was when he was first born. After the many hours of labor pains, the hand squeezing, the non-meant words spoken by his wife, both Franny and him were finally greeted by their child. Cheeks round and chubby. Though Cornelius thought Barry's were slightly more than Wilbur's had been. A shake of his head he returned to his observation. Barry's hair was put in the style of buzzed and his ears stuck out from under his gray and black hat; much like Dumbo's ears. Cornelius dropped his gaze to Barry's legs. He wondered how his legs could carry him around. They looked as though they would crumble under his weight at any second. His annoying chatter of useless information began to infuriate him further. When they finally stopped climbing stairs and started down a hall, Cornelius blew up.

"Look officer," his tone matched the exasperation on his face. "I don't care about the finer details." He balled his fingers together against his forehead to try and sooth the forming headache; caused by the lack of sleep. "I just want to know two simple questions: how they managed to get inside the most secure facility around and what they took."

Chief Barry's face turned to astonishment at the sudden outburst from the well know inventor. He opened his mouth and closed it several times, much like a fish outside of the water, and tried rummaging actual words. Cornelius rolled his eyes while both men worked on slowly getting down the hall on the third level of Robinson Industries. Cornelius noticed the chief turn his head forward again before he spoke English words he could understand. Not the jibber he heard for the last minute.

"From the report I was given when I arrived on scene by my team, it stated that the intruder managed to get inside through the vault door to the back entrance."

Cornelius' feet immobilized in the middle of the hall. His thick, blonde brows forced downward in confusion. "The only and I mean _only_ way to get through that door is if you have prints stored in the security system. That's everyone who works for me. Are you telling me that an employee of mine broke into my company? I have over hundreds of workers. From interns to inventors."

Chief Barry took a slip of his coffee. "When my team were looking over the door they found no signs of a break in. The door and scanner are perfectly intact. So I had them check for prints. There were none. The scanner was clean." Barry gave him a side glance. Both men commenced their descend down the hall again. "So with that still leaving a blank, I had a guard of yours go through the system to find whose prints were used to open the door. We found whose were used after five minutes."

"Those prints belong to…?" Cornelius dragged the last word out.

"A Mr. Bobby Palmer." He said blankly.

Blue eyes went slightly larger. "Bobby?!" His voice cracked from the tiredness that creeped further in. "Bobby was inside the building the whole time. Why would he need to break in through the vault?"

"We know that Mr. Palmer didn't use the scanner at all last night. He was sitting at the front desk most of the night when the footage was checked."

"Then someone used a decoder on the scanner to open the door." Cornelius thought out loud. "One that retrieved prints that were last used. Bobby must have used that scanner at one point."

"We also know that Mr. Palmer wasn't an accomplice or the one who stole from you, Mr. Robinson." Chief Barry took a long gulp from his coffee. Obviously he tried to make the caffeine work faster. He would offer one of his mother's caffeine patches, but he didn't grab his lab coat on his rush over here.

"I know Bobby would never do anything like this. I trust him one hundred percent." Cornelius pointed out. "That is why I made him the head of security staff."

"Mr. Palmer is dead, Mr. Robinson." Chief Barry turned on him and stared straight into his eyes.

Cornelius felt the breath get caught in his throat for a few seconds, before it finished leaving his body. "Ho-how?"

"The camera inside the room we are going to, caught the intruder taking the intended item and Mr. Palmer confronting him. It didn't end well. Apparently the intruder had a gun on him as well. He shot Mr. Palmer. Sadly, he bled out rather quickly before anyone could help him."

Cornelius raised a hand to his forehead and pushed the loose skin toward the middle. Many wrinkles formed along the smooth skin. Cornelius felt the vibration before he heard the song. He was taken out of the state of shock, and fished the phone from his pocket. From the song he knew who it was. Without looking at the screen to see the picture, he pressed the voice button to answer.

"One minute chief." He held a finger up to Barry, who simply nodded his head. Cornelius walked back down the hall, the way they came in, a few feet so he was out of ear shot. He rested his shoulder against the wall and closed his eyes. "Hello honey." He removed his glasses and wiped the corner of one eye.

"Cornelius." He could tell she was still tired. Her voice was croaky and soft spoken. From the one word she spoke he could hear the rough tone. He knew when Franny didn't sleep well, her voice changed.

Cornelius replaced his glasses back on his nose. He looked down at his watch to see that it was almost three in the morning. "Franny, what are you still doing up, dear? You should get some sleep."

He heard her sigh on the other line. She didn't speak for a few minutes, and he wondered if she fell asleep or hung up. "I couldn't sleep." Franny was still on the line. "I am worried about how you are. I know how much work you've put into this company."

He couldn't help by smile at his wife's concern. He always felt warm inside when she would express her worries about him. "I'm fine. Exhausted, but otherwise okay."

"Do you know what happened?" She asked him seconds later.

Cornelius looked over his shoulder. "So far I've been told that whoever broke in, managed to get through the vault door. They somehow used Bobby's prints." He explained in a summery.

"Bobby was helping the intruder?!" Her voice cracked halfway through her attempt of raising her voice in disbelief.

"No," he spoke. "they probably used a decoder to get the last prints used. Bobby didn't help, but he did try to stop them." The next part came out barely a whisper. "But he did lose his life."

Silence met him on the other end. Franny had fallen silent. If it wasn't for her breath beating against the speaker, he would have thought she was gone.

"Bobby's…dead?"

Cornelius crunched his eyes closed at hearing that word. "Yeah."

"Cornelius," she paused and he knew she was trying to find the right words to say to him. "I'm so sorry, honey. I know Bobby became a close friend of yours. He's been there as long as you have."

Cornelius gave a nod of his head, but he knew Franny couldn't see him give it to her. "He did."

"Mr. Robinson?" Cornelius turned his head to look at Chief Barry. "We need to continue."

"Franny, I have to go. I'll talk to you soon."

"Okay. I love you and be careful." Her voice pleaded.

"I love you too." He ended the call with Franny, and shoved the phone back into his pocket. His body removed itself from the wall to face the chief.

He held his arm out to direct Cornelius in the direction he wanted them to go. The chief lead them to the threshold of the Robinson Industries reject room. "This is where the item was stolen from."

Cornelius stepped further inside. Left hand rested on his black belt and his right fingers gripped his chin. The first thing he noticed was the yellow tape wrapped around four white, thin cones. A black body bag and a puddle of deep, maroon blood within that blocked area.

' _Bobby…'  
_

He stared at the slightly opened bag. He could see the paled gray skin of Bobby's face. His eyes wide open. They seemed to stare right into him. Blaming Cornelius for what happened to him. The second he thought that, he turned to look at something else. The several strips of windows along the left wall are lit up by the large portable lights the cops brought. More yellow tape blocked off the second window. A large section of the glass had a hole. Cracks ran out all along the remaining window like a spider web. The missing fragments of glass rest scattered along the marble floor.

' _Must be where they escaped from.'  
_

His eyes moved away from the broken window to glance around the rest of the room. A room filled with at least a hundred glass cases. Glass cases that held failed prototype inventions he had tried to create. Near the front of the row was a broken case just like the broken window. He moved closer to the broken case to see what they were after. His cold fingers wiggled their way back inside the warmth of his pants pockets again.

"We aren't sure what was in there, but it is the only thing they took." The chiefs voice broke Cornelius' firm concentration. He turned his head to look his way. The cup of coffee no longer in his hand. "They broke the glass with their elbow. Smart for them but bad for us. Since they didn't use their fingers on the glass no prints were left for us to find."

"How did they get inside the room? You have to know the code to get inside here." Cornelius asked suddenly remembering that fine detail.

"That," he hesitated. "we don't know. When we checked for prints, well you know."

"There were none." Cornelius sighed in frustration. He removed the fingers that were rubbing his sore eyes, and gave the broken case another look.

"Bar-23?" Chief Barry asked. "What does that stand for?"

Cornelius ran a hand through his damp, droopy locks. Few scatters of trapped water cling to the skin of his hand when it swept through. "That is what was inside here. Barbidon." The chief gave Cornelius a confused look. Wanting an explanation as to what it was. "The idea came about a month ago. A few other inventors and I were trying to create a new drug to help patients fall into a faster, longer, and deeper sleep before surgery. It was also supposed to reduce the after effects and side effects of regular anesthesia."

Chief Barry leaded against a case before the one broken into. "What happened that caused it to end up down here?"

Cornelius locked his shoulders up with tense muscles and the tips of his ears began to turn light pink. "Um," his fingers dig deeply into the skin on the back of his neck. "something went wrong after two weeks. We were doing a final test run. As I told the news reporter, we handled the situation."

Chief Barry pushed off the glass with his back to stand up straight again. His arms crossed over his chest, or at least they tried to. The extra fat made it hard to cross them fully like Cornelius could. "So they broke into your company to steal a drug?"

"That is what I think. Unless you found something else missing?" He asked.

"No, but if it doesn't work why would someone want it?" His question was followed by silence.

His question circled around his brain over and over.

' _Why would someone want to take a drug that didn't work?'  
_

The chief and Cornelius headed back down the rows of failed prototypes to the door that would lead them out. Cornelius took another glance at the body bag. Two officers were bent down on one knee. The zipper to the bag was pulled the rest of the way by one of them. Bobby's face was completely covered from Cornelius' blue eyes. Eyes that were on the verge of snapping closed and not opening again until he slept at least twenty-four hours straight. He watched as the two officers grabbed the ends of the black bag and hoisted it up from the marble floor. His eyes followed it all the way to the threshold. That is when his tired eyes fell upon a form he knew well.

The slender figure stood out in the hall just outside the door. Their bedhead clearly visible. Their black hair stuck out in wild directions on the right side of their head. Their cowlick frizzed. Brown eyes returned Cornelius' gaze with fear and worry. Cornelius chuckled at the attire they choose to wear. The atomic blue shirt was crew neck and short sleeved. "Time to Recharge" accompanied a fading battery graphic. Coordinating gray pajama pants have a logo elastic waist with an allover energy charge print of black and atomic blue. Their toes wiggled under the slightly big pants.

"Dad?" His son looked at him with an expression he has never seen in his cocky and confident brown eyes, given to him from his mother, before. Utter terror.

"Wilbur!"

* * *

 **Read and Review!**


	16. Chapter Eleven

**Alright, here we go with Chapter Eleven. Enjoy. :)**

* * *

Chapter Eleven  
Wilbur

 _Todayland: Friday, August 21st, 2037_

 **H** is father had pulled him away from the reject room, down the hall, and up the levitation platform to the fourteenth floor. Where Cornelius' office was.

Neither of them said a word since his father had yelled his name after he saw him standing in the hall. Before both father and son walked through the doorway of his father's office, Wilbur had stumbled several times over his pajama pants that were slightly long on him. Cornelius held his arm out to motion Wilbur inside his large office. Wilbur stepped inside which caused the motion lights to turn on. He blinked his brown eyes several times to regain his focus from being blinded by the bright lights. He rubbed his fingers over his tired eyes as a final solution. Wilbur glanced over his father's office space. A space he had been in many time as a child, but not recently.

The single white, leather couch rested on the left wall close to the office door. Two white, leather chairs faced each other next to the couch. End tables took the space between the couch and the two matching chairs. A decorative vase was placed in the center of each table. The cherry wood coffee table matched the end tables. Several magazines were placed next to a glass vase filled with clear rocks and fake flowers. He didn't bother to look at them long enough to see what flowers they were. He moved his eyes to the right side of his father's office. A glass wall. A single door. A silver handle. Inside the glass wall was the meeting room. A long white polished table sat in the center of that room and several black chairs wound around the table. The only other thing inside that side room was the large white board and two plants in the corners. Placed in the middle of the room, in front of the large window, was his dad's desk. Dark wood housing a single see-through glass computer screen, keyboard, and mouse in one corner. A pile of blue folders stacked unorderly in the other corner surrounded by a holder of his pencils, pens, highlighters, and other things. In the middle of the desk was a large calendar, but it was currently covered by scatters of loose paper.

Cornelius walked around his son after he closed the office door. Wilbur watched his father move closer to his desk. He seemed to stop halfway and turn back to him. Wilbur figured he noticed he hadn't followed after him. With a tired smile, Cornelius motioned Wilbur over with a jerk of his head. Wilbur pushed his body into a slight sprint and plopped his butt into his father's desk chair. He crossed his legs in the black leather. He wrapped his frozen toes inside the warmth of his hands, and rocked the chair back and forth. His body started to shake again, like it did when he stood in the hall. The rain outside had gotten his pajamas damp and the cool air swirling around inside the building sent a chill through him. His dad moved the thin, white mouse to his computer and sat down on the corner of his desk. Wilbur waited for him to say something. Anything.

Cornelius removed his glasses from his face and used the loose, wrinkled shirt he wore yesterday, Wilbur noticed, to wipe the circled rims. Before placing them back on his nose, Cornelius blew onto them. Once they were back on, Wilbur heard his father release a long sigh.

"Wilbur," he began. "what are you doing here, son?"

Wilbur started with a nervous chuckle. "Well, that is an excellent question."

"How did you get here? Did your mother bring you? Is she here as well?" Cornelius seemed to have ignored what Wilbur had said.

Wilbur dropped his chuckle and gave his father a blank face. "That is another excellent question." Wilbur winched with the look his father gave him. One he gets when he's crossed the line between being funny and needing to be serious. "No. Mom didn't bring me. I doubt she knows I'm here yet."

Cornelius lowered his brows slightly. "Then how did you get here?"

"I took the monorail at the station on the outskirts of town close to our house." Wilbur told truthfully. "I snuck out through the front door, and ran across the grassy plain."

Cornelius sighed again. "Wilbur, why did you leave the house at three in the morning to come here? Do you know how dangerous what you just did was?" Cornelius placed a hand on his forehead. "You could have been taken by anyone! Mugged on your way over here!"

Wilbur started to reach for his dad to give him some comfort. "I know dad, but I was careful."

Cornelius snapped his eyes to look into his. "It doesn't matter son! Why did you feel the need to race over here in the pouring rain and in your pajamas?" Wilbur saw his father's angry eyes go to one of worry. "Are you okay? Is your mother alright?!"

Wilbur stood from the chair quickly and placed a hand on his dad's arm. "I'm fine." He said calmly. "Mom is fine. Nothing is wrong with either of us." Wilbur saw his dad breathe calm again. Once Wilbur saw that, he stepped backwards to fall into the car once more.

"Then why-"

"I-I had a nightmare." Wilbur interrupted him. Cornelius gave Wilbur an utter confused look. He was about to say something, but Wilbur stopped him before the first word could escape. "Let me explain a little better than that." Cornelius straightened his back and crossed his arms over his chest. He used his hand to motion for him to explain his reason.

Wilbur cleared his throat. "Well…"

* * *

 _ **W** ilbur sat up faster in his bed than the lightning could crash to the ground. His chest pushed in and out in only a second each time. His hands rub up his sweaty face into his hair; which was also damp with sweat around the ends by his ears. His legs were tangled up in his chargeball comforter and matching sheets. His atomic blue night shirt he wore to bed stuck to his chest with his sweat and wrapped around tightly against him._

'Just a dream.' _Wilbur spoke to himself inside his fear struck mind._ 'Only a dream.'

 _His eyes moved to the window to see the rain had started again. Each droplet colliding with his window. A bright flash of lightning lit up the dark sky and Wilbur fell out of bed with a jolt of fear. Wilbur unscrambled himself from the even more tangled blanket and sheet, to get himself off the floor. He stood at the edge of his second story half floor while his fingers gripped the blue bar attached to the short wall. His eyes examined outside his window. He saw it. He saw an outline of a dark figure standing outside that window just a second ago when the lightning struck._

 _With his heart racing faster than when he first woke, Wilbur ran to the levitation platform to get to the first floor. Being impatient, Wilbur jumped from it halfway down. His feet raced out his bedroom, and down the short distance to the stair case. His feet got caught on his long pajama pants several times. Almost sending him tumbling to the marble floor. He didn't stop. His bare feet skipped three steps at a time until he reached the first break. He glanced at the only door in the center. Lefty's room. Their butler. Wilbur moved to the second, much smaller, set of stairs to reach the main bedroom hall that housed the other Robinson members._ _Wilbur took off down the long hallway. The padding on the bottom of his feet caused a slight echo of noise along the wall, but this hall was filled with empty rooms, except for his grandparents and his parents. Everyone else was still gone on their trips._

 _Wilbur came to a sliding stop before his parent's doors. One was slightly opened, and a dim light seeped through the crack. Wilbur thought about just rushing in, but his parents have left lights on before when they pass out from exhaustion._

'Or mom fell asleep reading, and dad hasn't come to bed yet.' _Wilbur thought._

 _Just when he was about to walk inside the room, Wilbur heard his mother's tired voice speak softly. Wilbur pressed his ear to the crack to listen to what his mother was saying._

"I couldn't sleep." _He heard her speak. Her voice was soft. Wilbur pressed his body as close as he could before he would be seen by her. He strained his ear to listen._ "I am worried about how you are. I know how much work you've put into this company."

'Is she talking to dad at work? But he came home last night. And what is she talking about?' _Wilbur wondered to himself._ 'Did something happen to the Industries?'

 _Wilbur couldn't hear the other end of the conversation. He guessed his mom wasn't using the projector feature on her cell. The room fell silent for a few. Wilbur knew his father was speaking to her on the other end. He peeked his eye through the crack to see his mother leaned against the back of their couch. One arm was draped over her stomach and holding her waist for support. Her arm holding the cell was rested against that arm by her elbow. Her free fingers where rubbing against each other. One of his mom's nervous habits. Her other nervous habit is more of a cork. Wilbur had asked her one day a few years back why she would be drumming her fingers in mid-air or on a counter top all the time. His mother only told him that it was because she was always thinking about a new rhythm to a song._

'Now that I think about it, it might be because she played the piano.'

 _Wilbur jerked further behind the door when his mother pushed off the couch to walk around the floor slowly._

"Bobby's…" _His mother's voice became even softer than before. He missed most of the conversation due to his short attention and letting his thoughts distract him. Wilbur slowly backed away from the door to his parent's room, and ran back down the hall. He mostly jumped down the stairs until he reached the bottom floor to the front room. Which kinda served as a living room as well. Family room is more of the word. Everyone spent time in this particular room._

 _Wilbur stood in the nearly dark room with his thoughts jumbling to try and piece together._

'Okay, so something happened at dad's work.' _Wilbur started._ 'That is why he's there and not here sleeping. The clock said what? Two-thirty something? And what happened to Bobby?'

 _Without thinking any further on anything, Wilbur raced toward the front doors, and out into the pouring rain. He shut the large door as quietly as he could before he set out across the Robinson garden and into the plain between the house and the city._

* * *

 **W** ilbur sat back in his dad's leather chair, his sore eyes locked on him, while he waited for Cornelius to say something.

Cornelius was still in the same position he was when Wilbur started to explain his story. He didn't move a muscle the whole time; still didn't move now. Wilbur did see that while he was speaking his dad's eyes did widen or squint.

"So," Cornelius started to speak, but stopped to collect his words right. Wilbur could see he was exhausted. Wilbur was as well. "You woke up from a nightmare. Think you saw someone outside your window, and that frightened you enough in your half-wake state to race to our bedroom. But you don't go barging in. You decide to listen to our conversation, not go into the room _at all_ to talk to your mother about what you think you saw. But you come here in the early hours of the morning?"

Wilbur listened carefully to his father's summary of his event. He nodded his head. "Yeah, that pretty much sums it up."

Cornelius let out another sigh.

"But I don't _think_ I saw someone. I _know_ I saw someone outside my window."

Cornelius looked up from the floor to his son. "Look Wilbur," he tried to reason with him. "I know you believe that, but did you stop to think of it this way? You had just woken up from a nightmare. You were half asleep. Don't you think it could have been your tired mind playing tricks on you?"

Wilbur raised a finger to go along with his remark, but he came out blank. Wilbur placed his hand back into his lap, and moved his eyes to the floor. "No, I didn't think of it like that." He mumbled.

Cornelius removed himself from the edge of his desk. He grabbed both of Wilbur's shoulders to pull him up from his chair. Wilbur looked into his father's eyes that were leveled with his. His father bent his back so he didn't have to look up at him. "Wilbur," he said. "I know you've had a tough week, but that doesn't-"

"Is Bobby dead?" Wilbur's blunt question gave Cornelius a sudden loose of words. He watched as the blue eyes blinked several times.

Cornelius lowered himself to the floor, taking Wilbur down with him. Cornelius rested his back against the two drawers on the right side of the desk. Wilbur sat with his knees drawn tightly into his chest. His arms wrapped around them and locked together. Wilbur rested his chin in the dip between his knees while he kept his eyes on his father. Cornelius had his eyes open. His legs straight out from his body. The brown circled rims of his glasses farther down his nose than he normally wore them. His hands rested loosely between his legs. His eyes weren't on Wilbur though. Wilbur followed his father's eye sight. Both blue and brown eyes watched the plummeting rain outside the window.

Hundreds of rain drops battered against the window. Splattered out into a fat puddle along the glass until another overlapped that puddle. Wilbur looked beyond the lit city to the non-straight lines of high energy that struck out from the clouds. One by one. No two bolts of lightning came down to the earth in the same pattern. One bolt came down almost straight, but it crumpled left and right. Another, which was his favorite kind, came halfway down to the ground until it took a turn upwards, then back up into the clouds in a faded tip. Wilbur rubbed his eye.

Wilbur looked down at the sudden pale hand that touched his knee. Wilbur veered his head to his left and was met by his father facing him. Wilbur gazed over his blank expression, but his eyes told Wilbur he was miserable. Wilbur unclamped his arms from his legs to rest his palms on top of his knees. One of his hands rested upon the rough skin of his father's hand.

"There is no use in lying to me about it dad." Wilbur's voice got no louder than a whisper. "I saw the other officers zip the bag up before they carried him out."

"Yeah," Cornelius' voice cracked. "Bobby is dead kiddo."

Wilbur did his best to keep the shock and hurt from his features. Wilbur swallowed a huge lump in his throat before he went to speak again. "How did Bobby die?"

"Wilbur," Cornelius was going to argue with Wilbur, but he stopped him from speaking another word.

"How did Bobby die dad?" Wilbur stared straight into his father's eyes.

"Bobby was shot a single time in the chest." He heard his dad say. "All I know is that Bobby tried to stop the intruder from leaving the building. The chief told me that he didn't see that the other had a gun on them. They shot Bobby before they escaped through one of the windows."

Wilbur took in a struggled deep breath of air before he spoke again. "At…least he died…trying to do the right thing."

Wilbur felt arms wrap around his body and pull him. Wilbur's head pressed against a hard chest. He didn't fight his father's hold on him. Wilbur, for a rare moment, wanted the comfort. He turned his face, so he wasn't being smothered by his dad's shirt. "He did Wilbur."

"Is it going to be weird?"

"Is what going to be weird?" Cornelius rested his back against the desk again.

When his dad leaned back, Wilbur turned his body inside the grip his father had around him. He twisted his body so that his back pressed against Cornelius' ribcage. "Having someone else take over Bobby's job. Not seeming him around anymore."

Wilbur felt his dad take in a sharp intake of air. He felt his chest rise, but it didn't fall soon after. Wilbur fidgeted with his fingers in his lap. Wilbur was waiting for his dad to say something, but silence was the only thing that met his ears. Not his dad's deep voice he would recognize even in the most crowded of places. Wilbur started to feel uneasy from the silence, except for the pound of rain drops hitting the glass and the occasional rumble of thunder. His fingers started to pick at the, already, short nails.

Cornelius finally let his breath out, and Wilbur sank with his chest. He heard the faint smack of his lips. "It will take time to get used to not seeing him every day. Yeah."

The arms that were wrapped around Wilbur suddenly disappeared except for the hand that griped his shoulder. Wilbur curved his upper body around to look at his dad. Cornelius wasn't looking at him, but spun his head back from the clock he was looking at. Wilbur saw it was getting close to four in the morning.

' _Wonder if mom has noticed I'm gone yet.'_ He thought to himself.

Cornelius pushed both himself and Wilbur up from the floor, and placed a hand around his back. Moving him across the room back to the door they came in through.

"Let's get you home."

Wilbur only nodded his agreement to his dad's stated words.

After the door was locked shut, both him and his dad walked down the hall to the platform they came up on. The glass case around it slid open to the side to allow them access inside. Cornelius lightly pushed Wilbur's back, so his feet would move. Once inside they turned around, and the glass door slid closed. Trapping them inside. Wilbur noticed a white keyboard fad in before his dad. The larger fingers quickly touched a few of the keys before it faded away. Not long after it disappeared they started to travel down. Wilbur counted which floor they were on after passing each entryway.

Wilbur noticed that the platform here traveled much faster than the one he had in his room. The one that lifted and descended him to his bed. Wilbur thought it was because he was only going up and down a few feet. Sooner than he thought, the platform stopped and they were walking through the crowded lobby of Robinson Industries. All the colorful cubed chairs that occupied the waiting area were scattered all over the place. Some turned over on their sides. The tables were pushed around sideways or out of place.

Wilbur felt the rain from outside drop into his wild hair and onto his shoulders. He hadn't noticed they walked outside. His dad's hand that was on his back most of the journey down to this level was no longer present. Wilbur gave a side glance to his dad. Neither of them picked up their pace as they walked through the bucketing rain. It was obvious to Wilbur that at the moment, Cornelius didn't care a bit about getting soaked. Wilbur found that as his feet slapped into many puddles, the bottom of his pajama pants soaked up the water, he didn't care either. The heavy fabric glued itself to his ankles as he walked alongside his father. Wilbur walked behind the flying car to the passenger side door. His hand gripped the silver handle and waited for the soft deep to come.

Wilbur wiped a few streams of rain water from the side of his face before he climbed inside the cool car. The leather seat sunk down a little when his weight was placed upon it. He made quick work with his seatbelt. Wilbur struggled to get it to click together. It wasn't until the car was flying around the city he was able to put the stubborn belt together. Wilbur leaned his upper body against the locked door, and sent his eyes out to watch the rain race down his window.

The silence only continued between them.

Wilbur didn't mind the quiet though. He rather enjoyed not having to talk anymore about what happened tonight. Or rather this morning. He didn't want to talk about the shadow he saw outside his window. He didn't want to relive his nightmare. A nightmare that will continue to peek into his mind and remind him of the horror for the rest of the day. It will be hard to look at his mom and not see it before him. But the one thing he really didn't want to talk about was Bobby's death. Wilbur moved his eyes to give his dad a look.

Cornelius was sitting straight in his seat. One arm reached out so his hand could grip the wheel. The sleeve of his wrinkled shirt rode up a bit on his arm. Exposing the silver watch that Franny had given him for his last birthday. His other arm was bent at the elbow. His elbow rested on the door. His shoulder pressed against the glass to his window. His fingers pressed into the side of his face near his mouth. Wilbur looked over his facial expression. His mouth was pressed in a thin line.

' _Was he biting his lip?'  
_

His eyes were focused on the sky. The thick, blonde brows were lowered slightly to hide behind the top rim of his glasses. Wilbur turned his eyes back to look out the window. The rain continued to stream and overlapped down the glass. That was when Wilbur noticed his dad was lowering the car down inside the garage. Wilbur pulled the silver handle toward himself and pushed the door open. His body slipped out. His bare feet connected with the marble floor. Wilbur padded over to the garage door with his father following behind. With a quick pull the two of them walked the short distance to the second garage door that would lead them into the front room.

Cornelius pulled the door closed tightly, but without a sound. He punched in the code to lock it. Wilbur followed his dad through the middle of the two curved staircases. A flash of lightning filled the room up with a blue light.

A soft, but echoed, gasp and the sound of shattered glass interrupted the silence.

Both Wilbur and his dad whipped their heads to their right. The kitchen gave off enough light that Wilbur could see his mother standing between two of the four pillars of the entryway. Her eyes were wide with shock. Her dress slightly swayed from her movements around her, and a blanket draped around her arms. Parts of her hair are loose from her bun and fall down her neck. Shattered at her feet was a mug. Pieces swimming in the liquid that was once inside it.

"Wilbur?" Her voice was still soft and full of exhaustion. "Cornelius?" As she spoke both their names, her eyes darted from one to the other. Back and forth. Wilbur thought she wanted an answer as to why he was awake at this hour, wet, and with his father.

"Wilbur made a trip to my office this morning." Cornelius spoke up.

Franny looked at her son with an expression of two. Worry and anger. He couldn't tell which one was more dominant. "Wilbur Robinson," she began. "what in the world made you think it was a good idea to leave the house at this early hour?!"

Wilbur tensed up his shoulders, gave his mother a nervous smile and nervous laugh. "Well, you see, that is an-"

The hand on his shoulder caused Wilbur to stop and look up at his dad. "Why don't you head to bed Wilbur." Cornelius told him. Giving him a slight push in the direction of his room. "I'll explain to your mom."

Wilbur gave him a nod and walked around the staircase to the hall with his room. Wilbur twisted his neck so he could look at his parents and wish them a goodnight. They wished him back and he looked forward again where he was going. When he reached his room he closed the door with his back. The final break reached his body and he could barely keep his eyes open. He moved his feet like he was trudging through mud. Wilbur didn't make it to the platform that would lead him to his nice warm bed. Instead, Wilbur fell face first into the plush cream couch. His arm dangled over the edge and his eyes looked out the window.

As his eyes slowly started to cave into darkness, Wilbur focused on the spot where he saw the figure. He forced his eyes to remain un-blinked until he could see nothing but the dark world of sleep.

* * *

 **I've noticed that the three total times I've written as Wilbur, they are the ones that are roughly the longest chapters. I don't know why that is. Hmm. Oh well. Hope you enjoyed.  
Read and Review! :)**


	17. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve is here!  
** **So, I just got my computer back. Yay me! Would you guys believe me when I say every chapter of this fanfiction was written on my iphone except for this chapter? Well they were. I want to thank all the readers who left me reviews. They really mean a lot to me. They make me feel better about how I write. Knowing that I'm good enough to capture your minds and take them on this adventure with me. And to one of my reviewers. When I uploaded all the previous chapters it wouldn't let me space out the paragraphs when I edited them. I drove me crazy, but now since I have my computer back, I fixed that! Yay! So I hope you enjoy this chapter. It took forever to write. I about drove my boyfriend crazy with complaining of not being able to get it down. But I'll shut up. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Twelve  
Franny

 _Todayland: Friday, August 21st, 2037_

 **T** o say she was fatigued would be an understatement.

Franny sat in one of the dark blue bar stools around the curved island. Her head rested in the bend of her left elbow that lay out across the polished top. A steamed cup of overly-sweetened green tea was wrapped in her right hand fingers. The warmth seeped through the smooth surface of her mug into the palm of her hand and up to the tips of her fingers. Her favorite mug. Cornelius gave her this mug one year for Christmas. The handle her fingers are resting through was in the shape of a black eighth note. Piano keys of white and black circled around the rim down to the bottom. Her hand gripped the mug slightly tighter. Franny slowly swayed her lower body around in a half circle while seated in the stool. Her heeled feet placed on the black foot rest. She could feel the fabric of her light green and cream skirt brush over her legs with every left and right turn of her body.

Franny didn't attempt to lay down in bed after Cornelius left for Robinson Industries at five in the morning. Even though he pleaded with her to get some form of sleep, she couldn't. Her mind was working overtime to keep her awake with millions of thoughts for her to even consider flopping down on her bed and snuggle her pillow. Her thoughts kept flipping by too fast for her to bother to focus on them long enough to understand what she was thinking. With a slow growing migraine inside her forehead, Franny let out a lengthy groan. With surprised strength Franny was able to lift her head from the bend of her elbow, and bring the music mug up to her pink, glossy lips. She placed the mug back onto the island countertop just as Carl walked between two marble pillars marking the threshold to the kitchen.

"Morning Carl." Franny muttered. She knew he would hear her words from the heightened hearing programmed into his hard drive.

Carl spun his head to give her a smile, but once he took one look at her his smile dropped into a thin mouthed frown. "You alright Franny?" His LED blue eyes scanned over her. Franny watched on as he probably noticed her hunched shoulders and paled complexion. No doubt her hair was falling loose from her bun, which she put up yesterday morning, and her make-up from yesterday was probably smudged and smeared. "You look really pale. Are you feeling well?"

Franny took another sip of her hot tea, burning her lips in the process, and held the mug before her mouth with both hands. "I feel perfectly fine. I'm just rather tired." She explained. "Just up most of the night."

Carl gave her an unsure look. "Was it from the incident at Robinson Industries?" Franny gave him a confused look, because she hadn't told anyone and neither had her husband. "Wilbur told me this morning before he knocked out again." Franny gave a nod of her head and took another sip of her tea; finishing it off. "Why don't you go get some sleep? You have that music thing this weekend, don't you?"

Franny put the mug back down with a soft _clank_. Her aching eyes looked up to Carl's. "Yes, but that's Sunday night. I just have to much to do to even think about sleeping."

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" Carl asked.

Franny rubbed her fingers over her eyes to remove any sleep from them. "I have to go to the store, so I can restock the fridge. No thanks to Wilbur's disassembler incident." Franny had removed her hands from her eyes and began counting off her to-do list on each finger as she spoke them. "I need to do laundry. Clean this large house up. Then I have to pack for my trip tonight. Afterwards I need to figure out what I'm going to play for Sunday night." Franny dropped her head onto the smooth surface of the island. "Heaven knows that will take forever."

A cool metal hand brushed over her shoulder. This caused Franny to pull her forehead up from the countertop and look at Carl. She hadn't noticed he walked over to her. "Why don't I do the house work?"

"Carl," Franny got up from her seat. "I can't ask you to do that."

Carl released her shoulder and pointed a thumb at himself. "I'm offering. That way you have less to worry about. You can get to and from the store, pack your things, and practice what you need." He held a palm out. "Maybe rest somewhere in-between?"

Franny gave Carl a soft smile. Her face brightened back to her fair color. "Thanks Carl."

"No trouble at all. Part of what I'm programmed for." Carl smiled and crossed his arms over his chest.

Franny gave a soft _'humph'_ before she glided past him towards the front entry hall where the front doors were located. A room that held nothing but a few chairs, some tables, plants, and a long rug running from the doors to the threshold of the family room. Pictures, of course, hung all over the walls of the large family.

"Though, may I offer a suggestion?" Franny stopped in her tracks and whirled the upper half of her body to glimpse back at Carl. She gave him a look with a raised black brow. "You might want to shower and change first before you head out. You wore that yesterday." He gave her a nervous laugh.

Franny quickly looked down at her attire. The dress she wore yesterday was completely wrinkled. _'How could I forget that I look half dead?'_ Franny shook her head at herself for not remembering that little detail. "Sounds like a good idea. I feel and look like I did when Wilbur was two-years-old."

Carl laughed. "I remember that. He was bouncing all over the walls when you would chase him. Trying to put him down for a nap."

Franny rolled her eyes and gave him a side smile.

Her feet carried her across the marble floor in the family room and up the white steps to the second floor hall. She passed by each closed bedroom door. Several windows shaped in circles, and the one large window with the cushioned window seat beneath it. Franny swung one of her bedroom doors open, shut it with her heel, and made her way to the bathroom door to her left. She twisted the knob down and flipped the switch. The four lights on either side of the two mirrors above the double sinks brighten up the room. The single ceiling lamp in the center of the room flipped on as well. Her eyes scan over the master on suite to her bedroom.

The double sinks were split down the middle by the closet door. Ten glass squares run down the door in total. Five on each side. Cornelius and Franny each had their own sink space. Cornelius' was next to the door to her right. His ivory countertop only had his toothbrush, toothpaste, and a spare set of glasses. The soap pump next to the silver knobs to the faucet. The wadded up autumn cream velvet hand towel rested on the counter next to the dip of the sink. Her eyes looked over to her sink space on the other side of the closet door. She gave a laugh at her space because it held more than just her toothbrush and paste. Her green floral make-up bag rested in the corner. Scattered along that side were different items of make-up she used. Eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, foundation, powder, and the brushes she used to apply it on. Resting on the opposite edge was her hair dryer still plugged into the wall. Each ivory top rested over dark wood. Three small drawers on the right side next to two cabinet doors.

Franny stepped further inside the room. The _click_ of her heels bounce off the walls and back to her ears. The white tub rested in the middle of the room across from the sinks. Small dark blue tiles wrapped around the bottom of the tub. On the same wall as the bathroom door was the glass shower. A thick wall separated the door and the shower. The shower was made from two colored tiles. Ivory and dark blue. Franny reached for the silver handle to pull the glass shower door open. Her free hand reached for the silver knobs to start the water. She made sure the cold was farther down than the hot. The water fell from the ceiling. Her eyes glued themselves to the water traveling over the tiles inside the shower. The dark blue tiles bordered along the bottom and up along the bench on the far wall. Ivory tiles filled the rest of the shower.

Franny tore her eyes from the water that circled around the drain, and moved back from the shower; letting the door close shut. She pulled her dark green heels from both her feet and let them clutter on the floor. The dark green ribbon was loosened from her hair and the clear rubber bands removed. Hair that was barely kept up in the first place. Her oily ebony hair tumbled down her back in a soft dance. Franny shook her head from side to side to loosen up any clumps of hair that tangled around each other. The ribbon slipped through her fingers to the floor by her shoes. Franny bent over to grab the bottom of her skirt and pulled it up over her head. She discarded the dress over her shoes and quickly slipped out of her underwear set. Her body glided through the door and the cool water rushed over her. Her lethargic body jolted awake.

Her head tilted back as the water beat against her shoulders. Her eyes fluttered closed. The cool water slipped its way through the strands of her hair and down her back from the tips. Franny let out a soft sigh as the outer edge water beat against her shoulders. Pounding the built up stress of the night away from her. Deciding that she had stood under the water long enough, she turned the heat knob down more, and began the same routine she always did each shower she took. Shampoo massaged into her scalp and through her hair, conditioner left in to soak, and soap lathered all over. She ran a razor over her underarms, up both her arms, and along the length of both legs.

Finishing up her shower, Franny turned the water off. She twisted her hair to wring the extra water out of her hair and wiped the running water from her eyes. She made quick work with the towel and hung it back over the silver towel bar. She got dressed inside the closet. Her fingers clasped the lavender bra around her torso. Fixing the black lacy overlay. She slipped the matching underwear over her damp legs, nearly falling over to the ground when the silky fabric got stuck to her thigh. She grabbed the edge of the dresser to steady herself. Once her balance was corrected she finished pulling the fabric up her legs. Franny moved to her side of the closet and ran her fingers over each item of clothing she owned. She grabbed a random dress off the hanger. She pushed her arms through the sleeves and pulled it down over her head. Like most of all the other dresses she owned this dress was no different. An A-line dress with graphic patterns. Of course most of her dresses were long-sleeved, but she had others that were short or no sleeves at all. Skirt reaching a bit past her knees and flared out like a bubble that danced around her with each motion she made. The sleeves reached down to her wrists of the dress she wore now. Light ice blue color wrapped around most of the skirt and over the turtleneck; down the left side sleeve as well. Dark lilac colored the rest of her dress.

Franny pulled her damp hair from the inside of her dress and walked to her mirror. She made quick work with her brush and hair dryer before she pulled it up into her bun with a few clear rubber bands then tied a grape ribbon around it. Franny brushed her teeth and applied the little make-up she wore. She made sure to apply concealer under her eyes to hide the purplish bags forming under her brown eyes. Before she walked out of the bathroom, she grabbed the dark purple felt fabric like heals. She placed her right foot into the shoe and hopped through her bedroom, trying to slip the left shoe onto her foot. Franny stumbled over and landed on Cornelius' side of the bed. A side that looked exactly like her side. Untouched.

Franny pushed herself up after wiggling her foot inside the shoe, closed the bedroom door behind her, and descended the stairs back to the first floor family room. She waltzed into the kitchen. Carl was gone, but Lucille had taken his place. She was busy making herself a plate of the peach pound cake she made yesterday. Franny put a smile on her face as Lucille looked up at her through her spectacles.

"Good morning, dearie." She said with a smile. "How are you?"

Franny placed both her hands flat on top of the counter and leaned against them. "I'm doing all right with all things considering."

Lucille dropped her smile and placed her slice of cake on the square plate. "Want a slice?" Franny only shook her head. "I saw what happened on the news broadcast this morning. How is he handling it?"

Franny slumped down in the farthest bar stool. Her head rested against a closed fist that was held up by her elbow. "As well as any of us could expect. I haven't heard anything from him since he left early this morning."

Lucille takes a small bite of the cake in front of her before she spoke. "I'm sure everything will turn out alright in the end."

"Let us hope." Franny pushed herself from the stool. "I'm headed to the store." She noticed Lucille pulled a folded piece of paper from the pocket of her dress and held it out to her.

"Here dear. I made a list to help you while you shop in case you forget anything."

"Thank you." Franny takes the paper. "I should be back no later than one." With a turn on her heel, Franny grabbed her purse, slipped her coat over her arms, and grabbed the umbrella before she slipped out into the drizzle.

* * *

' _ **I** hate going to the store.'_ Franny thought as she approached her flying car parked a couple feet away from the sore entrance. _'Walking down aisle after aisle, rude people bumping into you,'_ Franny opened the trunk and began to place the reusable cloth bags into it. _'having to reach on my toes to get high shelved items and the long lines at the checkout.'_

She placed the last two cloth bags inside the trunk and turned back to the cart. Her finger reached out to hit the finish button on the glass screen, and watched as it made its way back inside the store. Ready for someone else to use later. Franny reached inside the trunk to push the button on the side. Several short beeps rang from the car before the trunk began to close. As it lowered down, Franny reached inside her purse that hung from her shoulder for the keys. Her purple heeled feet stop before the driver side door, but her fingers kept rummaging through the small purse.

' _Where are my keys? I just had them to open the trunk.'_

Franny pulled her wallet, which was the biggest item in her purse, out with her other hand to open the purse up wider to look inside. Her eyes scanned over the tan fabric that lined the inside. Her keys were gone. Franny leaned against the car door with her fingers pressed into her forehead. She closed her eyes and sighed before she shook her head from side to side. Few drops of rain ran down her exposed skin.

"Ma'am?"

The sudden voice beside her cause her fingers to remove themselves from her forehead, her eyes to open, and her head jerked to her left. A man stood before her. Her eyes scanned over him before she answered.

The man before her was tall. Maybe the same height as her husband or a few inches taller, but none the less he was taller than she was. His eyes were covered by large black sunglasses and she briefly questioned why he would be wearing them when the sun was completely covered by the thick layer of clouds. A black jacket covered up whatever shirt he was wearing and the hood covered his hair from sight. Most of his face was covered by the hood, but Franny saw that a white bandage partly poked out by the corner of his mouth. A pair of light jeans fell over dark navy sneakers.

Franny moved off the car door, and turned her body to face him. "Yes?"

"You dropped these." His hand produced her missing keys.

Franny grabbed them from his hand. When her fingers brushed over his hand, she felt the rough skin. "Thank you." Franny smiled. "Can't really get home without them."

The man didn't say another word. He didn't give a nod of his head. He didn't do anything, but turn and walk away from her. Franny raised her brows and turned to open the car door. She sat in the seat, pressed the red button to start the car, and tossed her purse into the joined passenger seat. As soon as she clicked the seatbelt around her the sound of her cell phone filled the quiet air inside the flying car.

Franny dug, once again, inside her purse. Her fingered wrapped around the thin see-through glass phone with two thick white strips that wrapped around the back and side of the glass. Her sons picture flashed on her screen before her eyes. Franny pressed one of the two buttons, and her son was projected from her screen.

Wilbur stood inside his room. His red and grey chargeball glove was over his left hand rested at his side. He had changed from his pajamas and into a pair of fresh clothes. His light blue collared shirt tucked into a pair of navy blue shorts. Belt through the loops and his black convers covered his feet.

"Hey Wilbur."

Wilbur gave a large single wave to his mother, then put a cocky grin on his face. "Hey mom. Have you left the store yet?"

Franny glanced around her as she directed the flying car through the city with one hand on the wheel her other holding the phone. Her brown eyes look back to her sons matching ones. "Yes Wilbur." She answered. "I just left."

"Ah, dang." Wilbur dropped his smile into a puffed out bottom lip.

"What do you want?" Franny asked with a sigh.

Wilbur gave her a disbelief face. "What makes you think I want something?" He questioned her with crossed arms over his chest.

Franny raised her right brow and looked at her son with a look she gave him quite often. A knowing look. She gave her look when she knew that he wanted something before he even asked. "You always want something Wilbur."

Wilbur gave a fake, hurtful scoff while putting his balled hands on his hips. "Why would you say that?"

Franny put her eyes back onto the sky before she replied to her son. "Because it's true. I'm your mother, I know you." Franny heard Wilbur mumble under his breath before he spoke loud enough so she could hear his words.

"Yeah, yeah okay." He waved his hands back and forth before him. "But yes, I was going to ask if you could grab me something from the store, but you've already left so I won't trouble you with it."

"What is it that you want sweetie?" Franny turned the wheel ninety degrees to her left and continued straight after.

"That is an excellent question." His cocky smile returned to his face. "I was wanting oven-baked cheddar and sour cream chips."

Franny glanced around her as other flying cars moved past her from beside or in front of her. "I'll think about it Wilbur." She responded. "Now, I'm going to go. Need to focus on where I'm going."

"Okay. See you later." Wilbur hung up the phone before Franny could respond to him.

Franny rolled her eyes at her son and dropped her phone onto the leather seat. Both her hands gripped the wheel. Franny moved her eyes around as she drove the car through the city. She soon spotted a convenient store, something she was looking for, and headed in that direction. She parked the car into a spot near the door and headed inside with her purse swung onto her shoulder. The bell over the door notified everyone of her presence and she headed down the farthest aisle and grabbed the largest bag she could find. Before she went to the cashier, Franny grabbed herself a bottle of Sprite.

She walked up to the counter and placed her two items before the man behind it. He scanned them while his eyes stayed on her. She noticed his leafy eyes looked her up and down slowly. She felt uncomfortable under his gaze. She grabbed her card, well both her and her husband's card to their shared account, out from her wallet ready to pay for her two items.

"I need to see your ID ma'am." He spoke.

Franny put her hands on her hips and glared at him with annoyance. "Why? I haven't bought anything that requires for you to need to see my ID."

He seemed to hesitate with his answer. "Was given the order by the manager here."

Franny groaned in frustration, rolled her eyes at the wasted time, but gave him her ID. He glanced it over and smiled weird at it before he gave it back to her. Franny, becoming irritated with the strange man, paid the five dollars and forty-two cents for the bag of chips and her drink. After grabbing the brown plastic bag, Franny nearly ran out the door. She glanced back at the man while she held the door open. She watched as he scanned the lady's drink, toke her cash, and handed her the receipt. What she noticed was that he didn't ask to see her ID. Franny let the door go and slammed the car door as she got in. He had wasted more of her time than she needed wasted.

Nothing but irritation felt inside her, Franny drove her car through the rest of the city and parked it near the front doors. She knew it would be easier to carry in all the bags through the front doors than through the garage, back porch, and into the family room. Franny turned the car off, put the strap to her purse over her shoulder. Before she got out of the car, she shoved her phone and wallet back inside her purse, and grabbed the plastic bag over her arm. She closed the door after she pushed the trunk button. She bent over to grab a few of the cloth bags, draped the straps over her arm, and headed for the front doors. Leaving some of the bags behind in the trunk for her second trip out. Spike and Dimitri's heads pop up from the two potted plants on either side of the door.

"Hey Franny," Spike spoke first. "you should ring my doorbell!"

Dimitri spoke up from his side. "No," he shouted. "you need to ring mine!"

"Franny I wouldn't ring his, it could give you a rash." Spike said quickly. Franny raised her brows at the two twins who practically lived in her plants throughout the house. She saw Dimitri give Spike a death glare through his green goggles.

"Guy's," Franny stood between them both. "your doorbell buttons are hooked up to the same ring. So it wouldn't matter which one I pushed. The same sound would come from the speaker." Spike and Dimitri looked at her as she made her way through the door. Franny poked her head back out. "And besides," both twins looked at her. "how many times do we all have to tell you, none of us are going to ring either of your doorbells. We live here guys." She disappeared through the door.

Her feet swept her through the entry hall and into the kitchen where she put the bags down onto the countertop. She slipped her arm through each strap to divide her from the bags. She removed her purse from her shoulder and placed it on the counter as well. Franny started to head back out to the car, when Wilbur came sliding into the room. Nearly knocked into his mother, but he stopped a foot before her.

"Wilbur!" Franny exclaimed. "What have I told you about running in the house?"

Wilbur got on his toes. "Not to." He smiled. "Did you get them, did you get them, did you get them?!"

Franny playfully rolled her eyes at him, and spun on her heel to head back to the counter where the single plastic bag rested. Franny pulled the bag of chips out and showed him. "I got you your chips like you asked."

"YES!" Wilbur grabbed the bag from his mother and stared at it. "You are a mom with a capital awesome!" His eyes traveled to hers. "And might I add, you don't look a day over twenty-five."

Franny scoffed at her son and waved her hand before him. "You know, actually, I did get carded at the convenient store early. But I think the guy behind the counter was just flirting, because I mean, I only bought a bag of chips and a Sprite."

"Mom," Wilbur interrupted. "and we're movin' on to the next subject. I'm gonna head back to my room, and finish up my project." Wilbur started to dart from the kitchen, until Franny grabbed his arm to stop him.

"What project are you working on this time?" Franny questioned. "It's not something that will get you in trouble is it?"

"No, of course not!" Wilbur shook his head quickly. "It's actually going to keep me from getting into trouble." He added in a mumble so she couldn't hear. "It's just something Carl and I are doing for fun."

Franny stared at him for a few seconds. Then grabbed his cheek in her fingers. "Okay, honey." She said in her mom voice. Like Wilbur was five again.

"Mom!" Wilbur pushed her hand way then rubbed the spot she pinched.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Franny started to pull groceries from the bags. "Before you leave can you bring in the rest of the bags? I need to start putting the cold stuff away before they get too warm."

Wilbur groaned, but headed out the house to get them for her.

Franny watched him race out and shook her head. _'That boy is always doing something mischievous. Just wish he would stop growing up so fast'_

Her fingers on the counter start to tap imaginary keys, to notes that played in her head, as she watched her son disappear around the wall.


	18. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen  
Carl

 _Todayland: Friday, August 21st, 2037_

 **L** aundry was not on the top ten list of favorite things for Carl to do around the house. He was only doing it now so he could help clear Mrs. Robinsons plate a little. Even if it wasn't much. He knew she had that music thing this weekend and even though she'll never admit it to anyone, she was completely nervous and flustered about it. He saw her after she put the groceries away. Pacing around while biting down on her thumb nail. Her shoes wearing out the floor beneath her. Arguing with herself about what she was going to play and that she'll mess it up. Currently she was packing up her bag and unpacking it over and over. He stood in the doorway to her shared bedroom with a basket of neatly folded clothing belonging to both Cornelius and her.

He didn't say anything to notify her of his presence. He simply watched her continue to psych herself out over something she knew she's overthinking. She was folding the last of four dresses into her bag. She had already packed everything else she would possibly need, but she seemed to stand before her bag contemplating over it. Not long after she grabbed her hip and placed a finger over her lip, she started to unpack once again.

Carl shook his head as he walked further inside. Franny didn't look up at him, but he saw the sideways glance she gave while he placed the basket down on the Oakwood storage bench at the foot of her bed. He didn't say a word to her. He only watched her unpack for the seventh time that night. Carl only gave her a reassured smile before he left the room. Hearing her mumble about fresh air when he passed through the doorway.

His metal, circled feet transported him down the stairs to the first floor. Carl only had one basket left to deliver and that basket belonged to his little buddy, Wilbur. Which he hadn't seen much of today and that surprised him. He checked on him earlier that day, after he woke up the second time, to make sure he wasn't up to any trouble or something that could cause him harm, or both. When Carl walked in he found Wilbur hunched over his desk typing briskly on his keyboard. Papers of all different colors scattered all over the floor around his feet. A large wooden tri-fold board laid out flat behind him. His sketches from yesterday's time-travel adventure lay on the board in different areas. When Carl had asked him what he was up to, the thirteen-year-old didn't look up from his computer screen, but he still responded with one word. He was working on finishing his summer history project. Explaining rather quickly how he wanted to get it done before he was dragged out of the house tomorrow to head out for his mom's music concert thing.

Carl grabbed the grips to the laundry basket on either side. He lifted it up from one of the many couches in the family room and turned to head for the youngest member's bedroom. A sudden crash sent Carl and the basket tumbling to the ground. He scrambled up from the floor and looked at the turned over basket. The folded clothes were piled onto the floor. Some were still folded, but others have fallen out from the fold. He looked away from the basket and to the boy holding his head and sprawled out on the ground. Carl reached out his hand to help Wilbur up.

"What has your mother told you about running in the house?" Carl asked after the boy was planted on his feet again.

"Not to." Wilbur responded just as he had to his mother earlier.

"Then why do you keep running? Things like this," Carl motioned to the turned over basket. "happen when you run inside. Now I have to refold most of those."

"Sorry Carl." Wilbur shrugged. "You can just put them in my room like that. You don't have to fold them again. Not like they will stay folded when I shove them into my dresser."

"True." Carl bent down to pick the basket up, and shove the fallen cloths back inside. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Looking for mom. I finished the dumb project and wanted to show her." Wilbur admitted. "She's in the music room right?"

Wilbur started to head in that direction until Carl stopped him. "Actually she's outside."

"Why's mom outside?"

"When I dropped the basket off in the master suite she mumbled something about needing fresh air before I left." Carl headed off toward Wilbur's room. "I'd look for her in the apple orchard. That's the only other place she goes to calm down." Carl watched as Wilbur ran towards the front doors. "Why do you need to run?!"

Wilbur turned his head to look back at Carl. "Running gets me places quicker."

Carl rolled his eyes and continued to Wilbur's bedroom down the hall to put his basket inside.

* * *

 **H** e stood in the kitchen next to Franny, assisting her with finishing up dinner.

With the new food stocked in the fridge, Franny decided they would prepare stuffed peppers, which had to be put in the slow-cooker, steamed broccoli and garlic butter dinner rolls. Carl was carefully taking each pepper off the tray and transferred them onto a large square plate. Just as he lifted the last one, Franny came over with the tray of garlic rolls. She placed the hot tray down on the counter then removed the oven mitt from her hand; placed it next to the tray.

"Alright that is everything." Franny spoke. "I'm going to let the others know dinners ready." Franny started for the intercom in the family room. She stopped before she disappeared around the wall. "You'll be okay getting the dishes into the dining room?"

Carl gave her a nod and started to grab the dishes.

Carl placed the bowl of steamed broccoli on his head and grabbed the two plates in his hands. He balanced the bowl carefully as he worked his way down the hall to the dining room at the end. Carl nearly stumbled when he entered the large room, but quickly regained his balance and placed the two plates down the far side of the table; since only five members of the family were home. Carl took the bowl of broccoli off his head and onto the table as well.

Lucille and Bub sat next to Franny, who was pulling her chair out from the table. Wilbur came sliding in from the hallway and hopped into the chair across from his mother. Carl noticed that the chair at the head of the table was empty. Cornelius must not be home yet.

Carl watched as the four Robinson members all reached for the food before them. Franny grabbed the first stuffed pepper then reached for a roll. Lucille grabbed two rolls and a pepper for herself. Bud grabbed one of her rolls and poked his fork into it then started to make it dance on the table. Wilbur grabbed a pepper then a roll. Wilbur was the only one to not grab a spoon full of broccoli.

Franny stuck a tiny tree in her mouth as her eyes looked over Wilbur. After she swallowed, Franny was the first to break the silence in the room.

"Wilbur, you're going to eat broccoli aren't you?"

"You know I don't like them mom." Wilbur stuffed his roll inside his mouth. "They taste bland. Disgusting."

Franny scowled at him. "Don't talk with your mouth full mister. And you will eat some before you leave this table. You know that."

Wilbur fell back against his teal chair with a groan.

"So, when do you leave Franny?" Lucille's softer voice piped up.

Franny took a sip of her ice water in the wine like glass everyone else had. "I'm supposed to leave tonight, but I'm not sure what time I'll be heading out yet."

Carl walked around a bit to give him something to do, but still listened to the conversation.

"Well, we are all looking forward to hear you play." Lucille said. "I remember when you and Cornelius were kids. He would always tell us about how you played and begged us to allow him to go to your contests." Lucille took a bite of her pepper.

Carl noticed Franny turn her face away and hid it behind her glass. "I used to play a lot back then, but not so much anymore."

"I remember." Bud chirped in. "He came home the one night with a swollen eye, cut lip, and a bruised hand. He wouldn't tell us anything, but only that you weren't going to play ever again."

Carl noticed Franny was getting uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. She started to twist her fingers. Carl nudged into Wilbur's chair and gave him a look.

Wilbur gave a sneaky smile, and grabbed a few pieces of his broccoli he grabbed from the bowl just to make his mother happy.

"So mom," his mother looked at him. "I think I will eat some broccoli." She raised a brow over the rim of her glass before she took a quick sip. "But," Franny lowered her glass. "you need to eat them first."

Before anyone could react, Wilbur chucked the few pieces of broccoli in his hand at his mother. Carl widened his eyes and moved them back and forth between Wilbur and his mother. He waited for anyone to do something. Lucille and Bud both leaned forward to look at Franny. Who had a piece of broccoli in her hair.

Suddenly, Franny stood from her chair, pushing it back, and placed her glass down on the table. Wilbur bit his lip and stared at his mother. Carl saw Franny's shoulders began to shake. A few seconds later, her laughter filled the surrounding room.

"Oh, Wilbur." Franny rested both her hands on the table and looked back up at her son. "You should know by now. When it comes to family food fights," Franny reached into the bowl and pulled out a handful of little green trees. "you may start them, but I finish them."

Carl ducked behind Wilbur's chair right as Franny threw her handful of food. Pieces fell to the floor around Carl, and he extended his head around the chair to see what was happening next.

Wilbur was holding his arms out from him as broccoli fell from his body. He looked up at his mother with shock from her throwing food on him, but his shock didn't last long. Soon he was laughing at her and grabbed the stuffing inside the pepper. Franny watched as he raced around the table towards her. Franny was sternly, or as sternly as she could while holding back her laughs, telling her son no. Wilbur didn't stop his march on her. Franny dove under the table to crawl over the carpet to the other side of the table. Franny looked at Carl before she got back on her feet. Her eyes darted to the other side, but Wilbur wasn't there. Carl watched as Franny turned to face him after Wilbur's scream came behind him. Franny shrieked when the stuffing was smeared over her cheek.

Carl watched as Wilbur rolled on the floor laughing at how ridicules his mother looked. Franny wiped as much of it off as she could, but she only seemed to smear it worse over her cheek. He saw her brown eyes squint at her hysterically laughing son. Franny turned her brown eyes to Carl and placed her hands upon her hips.

"Carl," She started. "do you have the dessert we made?"

Carl only nodded his head at her. Then looked down at Wilbur, who had stopped rolling around but was still laughing. He wiped a nonexistent tear from his eye.

"May I have it please? I think Wilbur needs a reminder of what happens when he plays this game."

Carl pulled down his side antenna and the third hand popped out from his middle compartment holding the dessert she and him made earlier that day. Carrot cake. Franny grabbed the plate from him, and she held it in both hands for her son to see. Wilbur quickly got to his feet and stared wide-eyed at the dessert.

"Would you like some dessert Wilbur?" His mother asked him with a wicked grin. She began to charge at him.

Carl watched as Wilbur jumped and headed in the opposite direction of his mother. Franny chased Wilbur around the dining room. Cake in hand. It wasn't long before Wilbur jumped up onto the table and race across it towards the opened doors. Franny followed Wilbur on the table top. Stopping in the middle, Franny gave every ounce of strength into her throw of the cake. Carl watched as it flew across the room. Wilbur jumped down to the ground in a crouch and the cake flew right over his head. Carl winched at what the cake smacked into. Franny and Wilbur both stopped laughing. Carl looked at Wilbur's face first, which was wide-eyed with shock and his shoulders tensed, then to Franny's. Both her hands rested in front of her mouth and she gasped. Everyone stared at who stood in the doorway.

Cornelius Robinson.

The cake had gotten him right in the chest, but the splatter hit him everywhere. He had pieces of cake on his face and glasses. Carl watched as Franny got down from the table and walk toward her cake covered husband. Cornelius took his glasses off his nose and wiped them clean on an untouched spot of his white lab coat. He placed them back on his face and put his finger inside his mouth to remove the chuck of cake.

"Carrot cake. My favorite." He smiled. "Though," Franny stood in front of him with a napkin in hand. "I prefer to eat my cake, not wear it."

Carl watched as Franny offered him the napkin. He wrapped his hand around her smaller one, and pulled her close to him. He trapped her to him with his other hand around the small of her back, and he started to wipe the cake from his face over hers.

"No!" She shrieked. Her hands push him as far away as she could, but it was no use.

After he released her, Franny told Wilbur to go shower. Bud and Lucille left the room after Wilbur. Before Cornelius and Franny headed down the hall, she offered to help Carl clean up the mess, but he told her to go get cleaned up. With a smile, Cornelius lead his wife, his best friend, out of the room; leaving Carl to survey his surroundings. He raised a metal brow at the food stained table and floor.

' _Another quiet dinner with the Robinsons.'_


	19. Chance

Chance

 _Todayland: Saturday, August 22nd, 2037_

 **I** t's all just too easy really.

Even though the Robinson Mansion seems dead, I know that everyone is just sleeping on this stormy Saturday night. Everyone except me of course. It took me a bit but I was able to find a cracked window on the second story. I opened it as quietly as I could and slipped inside; falling onto the cushioned seat below it. Some of the throw pillows fell off. I get myself back onto my feet then replace the pillows I knocked over. I brush my hands over my chest, splashing the dripping rain water onto the marble floor beneath my feet. When my shoes start to carry me down the hall, more drips of rain fall off creating a water trail behind me. Though, I don't care. Tonight I am acting Phase three of my revenge. I reach inside my damp back pocket to my jeans and feel for the bottle and the cloth I shoved in there. I smile.

The house is completely dark except for the occasional flash of dim blue light from outside. I hope that that is the only light that casts over my body while I'm inside. I glance around the hall I am walking down, and know exactly where I am inside the much too large home of the Robinson clan. I pass the closed doors of the bedrooms that line this hall. The several windows shaped as circles and the picture frames placed every so often. I make my way swiftly down the hall to the bedroom I need to get into. With a deep breath, I grab the door knob, and pull it down. Once the knob was down as far as it would go, I slowly begin to open one of the two bedroom doors. I slip my body through the crack I made, and quietly creep through.

As I make my way to the end of the bed, I glance at Cornelius' side of the bed in the dark room. Once my eyes started to adjust, I notice he wasn't lying in bed. His side of the bed is still made.

' _Odd.'_ I look down at my watch, tap the screen, and the time lights up. _'It's nearly eleven. Guess him not being in here makes this much easier for me.'_

I make my way around the end of the bed to her side. I see the lump of her body hiding under the cover. I reach my hand behind to my back pocket and wrap my hand around the bottle and cloth. My other hand reaches out to pull the covers back from her. When I pulled them back my body jumps away from the side of the bed. The figure laying on Franny's side of the bed was not her. Instead, it was a dog. I scowl at the furry creature and it scurried out of the room.

"Where the hell is everyone?" I ask myself out loud. "It's nearly the middle of the night. The house is dark and quiet. Everyone should be asleep. Well at least everyone." I paced around the dark room back and forth; thinking. _'If they aren't here, then where in god's name are they?!'_ I slam my hands down on Franny's end table, and the _crinkle_ of paper makes my eyes down cast to look at it. I quickly turn the bedside lamp on and read the paper.

I glance up and smile widely.

' _This is really all too easy.'_

* * *

 _Moorestown: Sunday, August 23rd, 2037_

 **F** ive hours. It took me five hours to drive to the next city from Todayland, but this is where Franny obviously was; possibly the rest of them too.

I parked my car two blocks from the hotel she is staying at. I turn on the overhead light above my head, and glance at the address on her letter telling her where her hotel was. And telling me as well. I glance it over again.

Yep this is defiantly the right place.

I pull the hood of my jacket over my hair, and step out into the rain.

I keep my head low as I make my way through the crowd of people walking around me. Some holding umbrella's and others holding newspapers over their head and racing away to get out of the rain. My mind briefly questions why this many people would be out and about at four in the morning, but then again I'm out with them. I walk under the awning of the hotel, and walk through the revolving door. When my eyes look over the lobby a single word pops into my head.

Fancy.

The carpet below my feet holds a funky design of cream, white, and red. Seemingly extra cushioned chairs and benches are scattered on either side of the room. Two large chandeliers hang over each set. Two large staircases meet in the middle to go up to the second story. The front desk resting between them. A large fountain rested in the middle of the room, and I make my way around it.

I approach the front desk and remove my hood. The lady behind the desk immediately glanced at the left side of my face covered by the large white bandage. I groan inside my head, and wait for her to say something. I guess she saw the irritation in my eyes from her being rude and staring at me.

"C-can I help you, sir?" She asked.

"Yes you can." I nod my head. I shove one of my hands into my jacket pocket. "I was wondering if you could help me find someone staying here." Her brow raised with question. "I'm looking for a close friend of mine. She asked me to come to her to help with some music thing she's got going on tomorrow night." I lie straight through my teeth. Not a hint given to her that I was.

"What is her name?"

"Francesca Robinson."

Her eyes brighten and turn to the screen. She looks in their system for a few minutes to locate her room. I tap my foot to pass the time of having to wait. I move my eyes around the room once more to keep myself busy. I hate waiting too long. Feel like I'm wasting my life just waiting. Action is what makes life move.

"Okay, sir." The lady's voice pipped up behind me and I turn back to her. "Mrs. Robinson is in room five twenty-three. Just take these stairs behind me and the elevator is just at the top."

I give her a simple nod. "Thanks."

I take off up the stairs. Skipping two at a time and hitting the elevator button to go up. I tap my foot again as I wait for the glass door to slide open and the platform to lower down. Once it did, I hit the floor I want and wait. I feel my body sway when the platform began to raise. I lean on a hip. Both hands in my pockets. When I'm let out, I glance at every door number until I stand before hers. Then to the scanner. I pull out the decoder and press it onto the scanner. I watch as it does its magic.

My mind races with questions.

' _What if her husband is in there with her? Her son?'_ I lower my brows.

The scanner finishing brings me back from my mind. I pull it off the scanner and reach to push the door open from the crack it had now. I move my body inside and my eyes fall over the large room. Couches facing each other with a glass coffee table between them. A large vase of flowers is placed on the glass. A writing desk on the left side. A waste basket on the ground next to it. A phone, hooked up to the wall, on the edge of the desk. Double white doors are closed on the left wall, and I wonder where they lead to. The bedroom perhaps. I move my eyes to the right and behind the couch, in the corner, is a piano. Elegant dark finish edged in gold.

But it wasn't the piano that made me smile. What made me smile was the woman sitting on the bench.

Franny has her head laying down over the covered keys. A pencil between her fingers that hung down above the ground. Her head rests upon her crossed arms over the cover protecting the keys, and her eyes closed. She is still dressed in the outfit I saw her in yesterday at the store parking lot. Her hair loose from her bun, and falling over her back. The lamp placed on top of the piano gave her sleeping body a warm glow. Causing her fair skin to match the light of a setting sun. Causing the ebony hair to appear blue tinted.

I carefully and quietly make my way over to her. I notice when I'm standing over her, her arms are hiding sheets of music. My eyes lift from the paper, to her peaceful face. Her eyes are closed, but I know the deep, entrancing brown eyes are behind the ivory eye shadowed lids. I follow the arch of her nose down to her cheeks. Cheeks barely covered by foundation and blush. I notice the scatter of light freckles dotting here and there. I couldn't resist reaching my hand out. I brush the back of my hand over her cheek gently. Barely making contact with her smooth, creamy skin. I drop my eyes to the faded glossy, pink lips. They slightly tug up into a soft smile, but I see it there from my touch.

' _I truly wish that smile is from my touch, but I know you think it's from your husband, Cornelius.'_

I hear the faintest of sighs leave her body before she adjusted herself on the piano. I notice that it doesn't look comfortable. I remove my hand from her cheek, and carefully slip my arms under her knees and around her back. I slowly and carefully lift her body from the bench. I freeze when she moves in my arms. Her arm drapes over my chest and grabs my jack. Her face places itself in the dip of my neck and she breaths warm air onto my skin. Causing the hairs to stand on end. I continue to wait, but she doesn't move again.

I take a step forward again, and look aside to her peaceful face. I go around the arm of the closest couch, and gently set her down. I take a step back and watch her chest rise and fall slowly. As my eyes stay locked on her, my hand reaches behind me and my fingers, once again, wrap around the bottle and cloth.

* * *

 **Well...  
** **Not so sure what I'm supposed to do now. Hide? Run away?  
** **Nah, I'll get to working on the next chapter. What, oh what will happen next?!  
** **Read and Review!**


	20. Chapter Fourteen

**Okay guys, I got it done. I'm sorry it is kinda short. This was a real pain in my butt to write. But now that I'm through it, with the help of a wonderful reviewer Marvel-comic-girl, we are one step closer to knowing who our villain is. We have like three or four chapters left until your wait is over. I'm excited! Are you? Anyway...onward to the reading you guys.**

* * *

Chapter Fourteen  
Cornelius

 _Moorestown: Sunday, August 23rd, 2037_

 **T** he city Moorestown was much different than his home in Todayland. So different that Cornelius felt like a rock in a grassy field. Sticking out from the rest of the crowd like a sore thumb. Cornelius shoved his hands inside the warm pockets of his grey dress pants after he ran a hand through his uncontrollable hair. His blue eyes scanned over the city he's been to only one other time. Once for a business trip to negotiate the possibility of installing the traveling bubbles. He gave a quick glance up to see them flow through the air above them. Cornelius lowered his eyes to look around him. The city was larger than his home as well. Much, much larger. He took notice at how pressed together the buildings seemed to be. They left space between for the alley ways, but not much. As he walked further along the overly crowded sidewalk, he also observed it was less green there. Moorestown was very crowded. As his feet carried him forward, umbrella draped over his arm, he did his best to avoid bumping into others. He studied the different people around him to occupy his thoughts. Many of the men around him carried bags either on their shoulders or in their hands. Many have their heads dropped and eyes glued to the screen of their phones. Not paying attention to where they are going. Probably thought others will just walk around them. Mother's or couples held the arms of their children. Struggled to get them to move forward, but them wanting to go inside the stores. Cornelius laughed to himself remembering he and Franny did the same with Wilbur.

' _Speaking of children.'_ Cornelius stopped in his tracks to turn his head around behind him.

His eyes fall on the slender figure of his only son. Wilbur was pushing his way through the crowd of distracted people to keep up with Cornelius. His feet stopped before him. His hands on his dark blue jeans folded over his black convers. Wilbur stood up, after gaining his breath again, and pulled his yellow shirt back and forth to get a breeze going. He shot a grin at his dad. Cornelius rolled his eyes playfully and laughed. With a jerk of his head, father and son continued their walk down the concrete. For a few minutes neither said a word and just looked around. Over the colorful buildings of different sizes. Dodged rude people from knocking them over. Follow the flying cars above their head, but avoid the sun. Cornelius was thankful the rain had finally taken a break. He enjoyed the warm sensation the sun brought to the chill of the afternoon. But he knew the sunshine wouldn't last long. In the far distance, he spotted dark clouds approaching. He guessed the rain would fall upon them while they attended Franny's performance.

' _Good thing they are having it inside.'_ He thought to himself.

The silence that took place between him and his son was finally broken.

Wilbur moved to stand before him and skipped backwards. "You promise this place has the world's best pizza?"

"Absolutely." Cornelius said with confidence.

"You better be right dad, or you'll lose the bet." Wilbur warned.

Cornelius gave a big grin. "Oh, I won't be losing. I know for a fact this is the best pizza place ever."

Wilbur pointed a finger at his dad and tilted his head while he continued to skip backwards. "Just be warned. I've eaten pizza from almost every place there is. I'll be the judge of that."

Cornelius laughed at his son. He knew that Wilbur was exaggerating his statement. "Whatever you say Wilbur."

"I do say." Wilbur halted his tracks, nearly causing Cornelius to knock him over. He noticed Wilbur was just his mother for a split second. _'I am always right.'_ "How much further?"

Cornelius grabbed his shoulders to spin him around. He pointed to a sign about four buildings away from where they stood. "Right there." Cornelius lost his grip on his son's shoulders when the thirteen-year-old took off down the sidewalk. The slender, dark headed boy disappeared before his eyes. "Wilbur!" Cornelius took off after him. "Wait!" Cornelius slipped his body like a snake through the crowd to catch up to Wilbur. It didn't take him long to stop in front of the glass doors where Wilbur waited.

"Come on." Wilbur grabbed his arm to drag him inside. "I'm starving." Wilbur didn't release his arm until he got them a booth seat along the wall. He slipped in the cushioned see across from Cornelius.

"Aren't you always starving Wilbur?"

"What can I say? I'm a growing boy." Wilbur grabbed the menu and pointed at the first pizza he saw that he liked. "We'll need to order a large pizza." Wilbur stated. "Otherwise, I'm starving to death."

Cornelius rolled his eyes and sighed. When their waitress arrived to their table, Wilbur ordered a Root Beer and Cornelius a Dr. Pepper. When she asked if they knew what they wanted, Wilbur ordered the large pepperoni pizza. Extra cheese and stuffed crust. She took their menu and went to grab their drinks and place their order to the cooks in the kitchen. Cornelius looked over his son. He watched as Wilbur bounced in his seat, Slurping his soda down to the bottom.

The pizza place they sat in was fairly small. The walls inside where made from red bricks and pictures were spaced out. Ceiling lamps hung over each booth, but not over every table. Other than the few arcade games in the side room on the other side, the place wasn't that exciting. Not like Wilbur's favorite pizza place back home. He liked his mostly because they had a mini version of chargeball.

"So," Wilbur pulled Cornelius back to the present day activity. "is mom any good?" Cornelius sent a questionable look at him over the rim of his soda glass. "At playing. The piano?"

Cornelius released his lips from the rim of the glass to put it back onto the table. "Well, she's played since she was six or seven, I believe." Cornelius smiled at the sound that used to play all the time around him. "She was amazing. Her fingers could create the deepest feelings within a person. Move them. I went to every concert she performed in after I met her."

"Why keep it a secret then?" Wilbur asked. Popping a piece of ice in his mouth to chew. "Why haven't I heard her play before?"

Cornelius leaned his body on the table with his arms crossed. "Well, you haven't heard or seen her because she stopped playing when she turned fifteen. We didn't keep her talent a secret, we just never talked about it."

"But," Wilbur grabbed another piece of cold ice. "if she's as good as you say, why did she stop?"

"Your mother doesn't really like to bring that subject up." Cornelius said.

"Yeah, I noticed." A wondered look was shot towards Wilbur. "At dinner Friday night, Grandma brought it up. Mom was clearly trying to avoid the conversation." Cornelius gave an 'ooh' face before he took another gulp of his soda. "Why did Grandma say you came home broken per say?"

Cornelius nearly choked on his soda. He quickly placed it back onto the table. "Uh," he wiped his face with a napkin. "something happened."

"I got that." Wilbur leaned back against the booth. "What is it that happened?"

Cornelius rubbed the back of his neck. "It's not something I should tell you Wilbur. Your mother and I are the only ones to know what happened, and she wants it to stay like that. All you need to know is that the only reason you didn't know your mother played is because something caused her to stop. And that it was bad."

Wilbur sighed in frustration and pouted. "Fine."

His mood didn't stay sour for long, cause minutes later their hot pizza was delivered. Both Robinsons ate their pizza with delight. Wilbur swallowed about half the pizza before he drank another glass of Root Beer. Cornelius ate four pieces before he called it quits. He could feel his stomach ready to burst. Drinking the rest of his soda, he watched as Wilbur grabbed the last piece.

"How can you continue to eat Wilbur?"

Wilbur looked up from his pizza. His mouth stuffed full of cheese, sauce, and pepperoni. He quickly chewed the food in his mouth then answered his dad. "That's an easy one. I'm hungry."

Cornelius rolled his eyes. "I don't see where you put it all though."

Wilbur stuffed the rest of his pizza in his mouth and leaned back against the booth. His hand pats his stomach. "I put it all right here. I guess all my trouble making keeps me thin." Wilbur gave a grin.

Cornelius paid the bill and left a tip on the table. He drank the rest of his soda before they both headed back out into the crowded streets. Wilbur paced alongside Cornelius down the sidewalk and across the street to the other side. Cornelius placed his hand on Wilbur's back as they rounded the corner. He looked down at his son.

"So, who won the bet?" He asked already knowing the answer.

Wilbur rolled his eyes, and fished inside his pocket. "Here." Wilbur handed his father a five-dollar bill. "You win."

Cornelius plucked the bill from his son's hand, and shoved it inside his own pocket. "Now are you ready for the fun part of our trip?"

Wilbur gave him his best smile he could manage to look excited. "Ehh."

"It will be fun."

"How is shopping for a gift fun?" Wilbur questioned. "You know I hate shopping. We don't even know what to look for. What we should give her."

Cornelius and Wilbur continued their walk down the sidewalk. "Just keep your eyes open. I'm sure that something will pop out to us."

They passed by several large windows with items displayed. Wilbur offered a few suggestions, but none of them felt right. Cornelius and Wilbur walked through several places. Items picked out, but always put back. Wilbur asked him why each time Cornelius rejected it. His response the same. It wasn't good enough to give her. Wilbur complained most of their hunt, and it was driving Cornelius crazy. He didn't know how Franny could deal with it when she dragged him out. He was ready to leave him in a store and head back to the hotel.

"Can't we just get flowers for mom?!" Wilbur exclaimed beside him.

Cornelius rubbed his temples before he spoke. "I already have."

"Then why do we have to look for something else? Isn't that enough?" Wilbur slumped his shoulders and looked around him.

"No." Cornelius said. "I want us to get her something that will remind her of what she'll do tonight. A memory to replay over and over whenever she looks at it."

Wilbur's hand grabbed Cornelius' to stop him. "Something like that?"

Cornelius trailed his eyes to where his finger was pointed. Across the street in a window, Cornelius saw what he had been looking for. The perfect thing he and Wilbur could give her after tonight.

"Something exactly like that."

* * *

 **I shall see you guys very shortly because I've already started the next chapter! :)**


	21. Hunted

Hunted

 _Moorestown: Sunday, August 23rd, 2037_

 **T** he anger inside me boils through my veins as I sit in my seat. Wiggling back and forth trying to get comfortable. The annoying screech of the strings from the performer started to make my ears bleed.

' _I wouldn't have to sit through this if I hadn't been disrupted this morning.'_

I had been so close. I was so close to having her in my grasp. If that damn hotel door hadn't opened, I would have Phase Three with me now. Instead…she is waiting somewhere behind that curtain. Waiting for her turn to come out and play. I angrily drum my fingers against the arm rest. I could take her now, I really want to take her now, but there are too many people around to see. My fingers turn pale as the snow with the tight grip on the arm rest.

My eyes stare straight to the stage. The stage that is now empty and dark.

So close.

So close to getting what I want. I can taste it in my mouth. The sweet taste of honey filling my taste buds. I can feel my fingers tingling, up my arms, and all over my body.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sudden sound of music. My eyes glue themselves to the stage, but it was still dark. I push myself to the edge of my seat as I listen to the sweet sound. It starts out with just the single instrument playing, but once the violin strings join the piano, the stage is lit up. My eyes stare at the young woman sitting at the bench.

She looks completely different from herself. My eyes slowly trail over every inch of her. From the bottom to the top.

Franny's feet are covered by white flats. I watch her right foot press against the golden pedals under the grand instrument. My eyes travel up her smooth, creamy legs uncovered up until her knees. The dress she wore was one so unlike the rest she's worn. The usual bubble-like skirt was now one of flowing white fabric that was draped over the black polished wooden bench. The skirt seemed to dance across her legs and over the bench as she swayed her body to the music she created with her fingers. I travel my eyes up further to her bare arms. The fair skin of her arms are smooth and untouched. The top of her dress held jewels along the torso. Heart shaped neck line. Her neck. Long and creamy. Her ebony hair curled down her back and over her chest. Her cowlick was pinned down with a jeweled clip wrapped around the side of her head.

' _Beautiful.'_

I just watch her move. I become so entranced with the sway of her form to her music.

Soon.

To soon, she stands up from the bench. Her fingers leave the keys and her feet take her to stand before the piano. She takes a bow.

The crowd was silent.

I see as Franny stands straight, her lip gets bit by her teeth. Her eyes franticly scan the crowd.

Everyone around me stands from their feet and their hands clap together. I watch as Franny looks over to the man walking up onto the stage to her. Her legs jump into a sprint and she wraps her arms around his neck. He picks her up from the ground and spins her. My fingers ball into a fist again, and I jerk my body away from my seat, and towards the door that would lead me out into the storm.

' _Wait. Just you wait.'_

And I wait. Leaning on the outside wall, far from the door. I pull the hood of my jack over my hair to keep the rain from soaking my bandage. I wait.

Seconds feel like minutes.

Minutes feel like hours.

Hours feel like days.

Days feel like weeks.

Weeks feel like months.

That is when I look up from the door being opened. I knew they would come through the backstage exit.

They stood there as the rain came down upon them. The long curled hair beginning to straighten as the down pour rushes over them. Their white skirt becoming slightly see-through. Their fair skin peeking through the flowing fabric. Their wrap held loosely from the bend of their elbows. I watch as they lean their head back and lets the rain stream down their neck. A neck that held something new since they played on stage not long ago.

Suddenly they started to walk away down the sidewalk. Becoming smaller and smaller. Without a second thought I follow.

I follow Franny Robinson down the way in the storm of night.

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 **Well that happened. Does anyone hate me yet?  
More to come soon!  
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	22. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen  
Franny

 _Moorestown: Sunday, August 23rd, 2037_

 **H** er heart pounded the entire experience. Her fingers shook from the idea of messing up. Her breathing caught in her throat several times and she had to keep reminding herself to breath. To her it seemed like time froze the second she was to go out. The crowd glued to their seats. Only their eyes allowed to move. Following her as she made her way toward the polished black and gold piano near the center stage. A piano that looked like the one she played on all day yesterday in her hotel.

Then everything moved again. It came down on her like an unexpected wave. The clap of their hands made her stand straight. They were standing from the chairs. Hands slapping together to create the loud applause. Her ears picked up the high pitched whistling from different spots inside the auditorium. Shouts of words she couldn't understand from the rest of the noise. All the noise revolved around her. All the noise for her performance. Franny felt her chest fill with a feeling she hadn't felt in twenty-five years since her last performance.

Excitement.

She smiled larger than she had when she was fifteen. The night she last touched the keys.

"Franny!"

Her head spun around to her right. A figure she knew better than any other was making their way to her. Franny pushed her legs into a sprint toward them and wrapped her arms around their neck. She felt her waist being grabbed and her feet lifted from the stage floor. Her squealing laughter heard between them two only because the roar from the crowd drowned everything else. Franny was placed back onto her feet and her eyes look into her husbands. His smile matched the size of her own.

"I-I actually," Franny tried to form words, but her brain was jumbled around.

Cornelius pulled Franny as close to him as he could get her. He pressed his forehead against hers. Franny lifted her hands into his hair. She felt the soft, disobedient locks between her fingers. Franny just about pressed her lips to his, but the loud coughing next to them caused them both to look away.

"Can you guys not do that in front of me? Please?" Wilbur was hiding his face behind a small blue stripped bag filled with green tissue paper.

Franny dropped herself from her toes, and gave a smile to Cornelius. Her hands release his hair and she turned to her son. "You can drop the bag now Wilbur." She watched him lower it enough to peek an eye over and then finally put it down. "Come on. Let's go backstage." Franny motions for Wilbur to start walking.

Franny and Cornelius follow behind. Moving the thick curtain out of their way. Wilbur turned on them quickly, and held the bag out to his mother.

"Here mom." Wilbur said. "Me and dad got you something. We knew you would do great and wanted you to have something to remember it."

Franny grabbed the bag from her son. She removed the green tissue paper and pulled out a black box. She handed Wilbur the bag back, so she could open the box. Franny lifted the lid, and covered her gasp with her hand.

Laid out inside the box is a silver chain in the shape of a 'v'. Hung at the end of the chain was a Treble Clef. Covered in silver with light green jewels placed near the top and the end. But that wasn't what made her gasp. Engraved along the curve of the note was _'We Make Music Together.'_ Franny nearly dropped the black box to the floor until Cornelius grabbed it from her, and pulled the chain and pendant from it. Franny turned her back to him, and moved her curled hair away from the back of her neck. She waited for her husband to wrap it around her neck. The pendent fell against her chest. She released her hair then gave Wilbur a hug. Of course Wilbur hesitated and gave a little tap on her back before she let go. Franny gave Cornelius a hug and his arms wrapped around her.

"Thank you." She said to both her husband and son. Her fingers brush over the pendant and she smiled.

"So, can we go eat now?" Wilbur asked.

Franny saw Cornelius give Wilbur a confused look. "You just ate six pieces of pizza!"

Wilbur crossed his arms over his chest. "That was seven hours ago, dad." Wilbur shifted his eyes to his mother. "Can we go eat dinner now?"

Franny looked up at Cornelius, then to Bud and Lucille who came through the curtain. She smiled at them before she looked back to her son. Franny placed a hand on Cornelius' upper arm. "Why don't you guys go. I'm not all that hungry. I'm actually going to take a walk back to the hotel."

"Is that a good idea? It's storming out." Cornelius asked her.

Franny gave him a smile. "I'll be fine. The hotel is only a couple blocks from here. I need to clear my head and think about what just happened." Franny reached for her wrap that was on a nearby chair. "I will see you all tomorrow. I should be back home before you come home from school, Wilbur."

He made a face. Franny and the other Robinsons went their separate ways. Franny pushed the stage exit door open and the rain came down upon her.

Franny let the door close by itself and leaned her head back. Her hair that she curled for the performance was becoming straightened from the water rushing through it. The wrap hanging loosely from her arms became soaked along the bend of her elbow. Her skirt as well became glued to her thighs. Franny didn't realize she had started walking down the sidewalk until she lost her flat in a puddle. She fished it out and slipped her foot back inside it.

The rain came pelting down harder just as her dripping body went through the revolving door of her hotel. Her feet caused a squishing sound as she walked across the carpet in the lobby. She skipped up the stairs by two. She noticed how the few staff members she passed by gave her looks.

' _Yes. I am wet. It's raining outside.'_

Franny rolled her eyes after the levitation platform began to take her to the fifth floor. Leaving a trail of rain water in her wake, Franny opened the door to her hotel room, and glided inside. She walked up to the tall, circled table in the entry way hall. The vase of flowers Cornelius got her rested in the middle. She untangled the wrap from her arms and put it on the table. A sheer golden curtain swaying in the living area of her suite caught her eye. She slowly made her way around the table to get a closer look. The French doors in the middle of the wall were wide open. The rain splashing against the marble floor.

' _Did the storm open those doors?'_ Franny thought as she halted her feet a few inches before the glass coffee table. _'I'm pretty sure I had those closed and locked.'_

 _A_ _creek_ in the floor board behind her, caused Franny to spin on her heel.

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	23. Taken

Taken

 _Moorestown: Sunday, August 23rd, 2037_

 **I** t was extremely hard to follow her back to the hotel. With the storm falling over us, it was the perfect opportunity to snatch what was mine. But, of course, a stranger would always pop up when I started to take my chance. I watch as her soaked body enters through the revolving front door.

I knew where her hotel room was. When I was interrupted earlier this morning, I left through the French door window. Right before I left, I made sure to tie one of my white silk ropes around the golden knob outside. I made sure the door looked like it was still locked, but I slipped an end of the rope between the lock. I would open with ease. And it did.

I shove the rope inside my backpack before I step inside the dark room. The occasional light brightened the room long enough for me to make my way to a corner and wait.

' _It shouldn't be too long until that door opens, and when it does I will have my prize.'_

My fingers fumble with the cloth from my back pocket. To my surprise it didn't get soaked, but only a little damp. I fish the bottle out from the same pocket and pull the cork from it. Letting it drop to the marble floor. I hold the cloth as far from my face as I can then tilt the bottle over it. The liquid is clear as it slipped over the cloth. I watch as the cloth soaked up the liquid like its never had a drink before. After the last drop left the bottle, I shove it into my pocket. I fold the cloth over once and crush it in my palm. I slip my backpack off my back and onto the floor behind me. Just as the _thud_ left the air, the sound of the door opens. I press my body as flat against the wall I could get and wait.

The wall lamps across from me flicker on, but they weren't very bright. Only as bright as a reading light would be, but there are two. I move my eyes to the right when a figure shifts into them. She stood there before the glass coffee table. Her eyes staring at the opened French doors. The golden curtain swaying from the howling wind blowing inside. With her distracted in thoughts it seemed, I start to make my way behind her as slowly and quietly as I could manage.

A creek from my drenched boots disrupts the silence I tried to keep. I stop my feet just two steps away from Franny. I wait. She turns her head to her left, looking at the spot I was just standing in. Her brown eyes locked on the dripping backpack resting in a puddle. I take my opportunity and launch myself on her.

My left arm wraps around her stomach, pinning her arms to her sides, and I press her back against my chest. I heard a grunt leave her lips. I unfold the cloth and reach around to press it against her mouth and over her nose. I press her head into my collar bone. Franny twists her body around trying to break the hold I have over her. Her feet push against the marble floor. Forcing all her weight to push against me. With her pushing on my chest, my feet slip and we tumble to the floor. I feel my back collide with the hard marble and I release Franny. A gasp escapes my lips from the shocking pain shooting throughout my body.

' _Damn, that hurts. Guess my body is still healing.'_

Franny scrambles herself off my chest and onto the floor. I push the pain from my mind, and push myself up to my knees. My eyes snap over to Franny who is stumbling towards the hotel door to her room. Her body leaned against the table in the hall. Struggling to keep herself up. The drug obviously coursing through her. Shutting her body down.

I push myself up and scramble after her. The cloth still in my hand. With her body responding to the drug, it is easy for me to knock her to the ground. My arm wraps around her chest. I lay over her and press the cloth back in front of her mouth and nose. I feel her continuing to fight me off, but my weight pins her to the ground. I press my lips against her ear.

"Just relax." I spoke to her. "It will be easier on you that way."

I press the cloth tighter into her face and I feel her struggle stop. I smile and stand up from on top her. I shove the cloth inside my pocket and walk around the wall to retrieve my bag. I sling it over my shoulders and make my way back to Franny. I glance over her for a brief moment. Her damp hair tangled and frizzed. Hanging over her face and down the middle of her back. Her dress bunched up from the struggle she gave me, but I enjoy the sight of her long legs. Her chest pushed out then in slowly as she slept. I quickly grab her wet wrap from the table and shove it into my bag. I bend down to my knees and grab her arm. I sit her body up and wrap my arm around her waist. I lean her over my shoulder and stand back on my feet. I lock my arm around her legs just under her bottom. My free fingers grab the handle to her bag she brought.

' _Can't leave anything behind here.'_

The rain came down on Franny and I. I turn the hover feature on and jump from the balcony. I lower myself down to the concrete below and glance around me. No one was around. I quicken my pace down the darkened sidewalk to my car. I open the door to the back seat and place her inside. Laying her down on the leather. I toss her bag to the floor. I sit down on the seat by her feet and close the door. I unzip my bag and grab an old rope and tie her hands together behind her back. I look at her face as I moved her hair away from it. I brush my fingers over her cheek and across her pink lips.

' _So tempting._ '

I stare at the peaceful features of her face. Without a second thought, I lean my head down, and brush my lips over hers. They feel warm. Her lips taste like sweetened honey. Soft and full against mine. After I lifted back up, I climb over the seat and turn the car on. Once I got it into the air, I move the wheel to head out of the city.

' _Let Phase Four begin.'_

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	24. Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter Sixteen is up and ready for you to enjoy, hopefully. I stayed up most the night writing this. Gotta love having random bursts of inspiration. But not at one o'clock in the morning.**

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Chapter Sixteen  
Wilbur

 _Todayland: Monday, August 24th, 2037_

 **H** e had forgotten how much he really hated school. The crowded halls. Students pushed you out of the way to get to their class. Not bothered to say 'sorry' over their shoulder. Wilbur rolled his eyes at the tenth kid to shove him out of the way. He fixed the strap to his messenger bag on his shoulder. A bag filled with his needed school supplies he and his mother got last Tuesday and his new text books. His heavy bag was starting to cause a dint in his shoulder. He's had to switch the strap several times throughout the day to give the other a break and recover until he switched it again. Wilbur fished his printed schedule from his bag to see where he was to go next. His brown eyes scanned over each period.

Homeroom-U.S. History.  
First Period-Language Arts.  
Second Period-Physical Science.  
Third Period-Advanced Reading.  
Fourth Period-Physical Education.  
Fifth Period- Algebra.  
Sixth Period-Study Hall.  
Seventh Period-U.S. History.

Wilbur just got out of fourth period and went to lunch. He was thankful his grandma was awake this morning to make him a homemade lunch. Though he appreciated her taking the time to do it, he much preferred his mother to make it. She knew exactly what to put inside his lunch. Every time. But since his mother wasn't home at the time, and the school had horrid dried out hamburgers, he didn't complain too much. Wilbur glanced at his next class. Algebra.

When Wilbur got his schedule this morning, he had questioned the front office about having Algebra instead of Pre-Algebra. The answer he got after they checked the system was rather shocking to him. Apparently, he got a perfect score on his last FCAT Mathematics test. They told him it was wonderful for him to take a high school course in his grade level. They only had one Algebra class during the day and he was among the few students to have the opportunity.

Wilbur shoved his schedule back into his bag, and headed down the main hall to the three-hundred wing. His black convers maneuvered his body through the crowd of other students. His eyes caught a few chatting in groups with last year friends. Their annoyingly loud laughter and squealing. A few others looked lost while they tried to figure out their schedule. Wilbur just continued his way down the main hall then turned right to head down the hall he needed. His eyes glanced over each number next to the doors on both the right and left of him. Room three-hundred and three. The middle door of three on the left wall. The door was opened and the teacher stood against it. Smiled and waved as each of his students walked through his door. Wilbur sent his feet to carry him through the door, and stumbled his way to an empty desk.

He dropped his bag beside his feet the second he sat down. With two minutes left for students to get to class, Wilbur glanced around the chilled room. The walls around him were white and gray. A few posters about math hung in different spots. A large white board covered about half the wall before him. The teachers desk was in the corner next to him.

' _Great, I picked the seat right next to the leader of our circus.'_

Another white board, smaller than the front one, ran along the wall beside him. Behind him and the other students were five windows to let natural light flood into the room. Wilbur counted the number of rows there were of desks. Five rows with six in each. He was seated in the fifth row first desk. With his chin rested on the palm of his hand, Wilbur took his eyes away from interrogating the classroom to the other students in the room. There were a good number seated with him. Boys and girls alike. Each doing their own thing. There was a group of them in a circle talking about their summer break and what they did. A boy, Wilbur guessed the Alfa of their friend group, was sitting on top of the desk. He was spinning a tale about his trip to Scotland with his parents. Wilbur rolled his eyes. He had much better stories about his summer vacations. Of course, his 'vacations' involved taking the time machine from the garage, without permission, and traveling back in time. Becoming annoyed with the group of friends, Wilbur turned his eyes to the other students.

Three others were by themselves. Sitting at their desk. One was glancing over her schedule to see where she was to go next, or if she was in the right place. Wilbur didn't know. Another kid was reading his science text book. He pushed his glasses back up his nose after they slipped then turned the page. Skimming his eyes over the printed pages. Wilbur chuckled at the boy. His brown eyes fall over the final kid. He was seated next to him. His fingers were wrapped in a pencil and a sheet of lined paper rested in front of him. Wilbur caught a glance at the paper and noticed he was drawing. Wilbur dared to stare longer at the paper to see what was sketched. In the middle of the page was a familiar lightning bolt.

"Chargeball?"

"Yeah." The boy next to him replied. Wilbur hadn't noticed he said that out loud. "You play?"

Wilbur twisted his body in his seat to face him. "I do. I like to think I'm pretty good at it." _'More like the best.'_ Wilbur thought in his head. "I play with my family all the time, well when I can drag them away from their own daily activities."

The boy across from him smiled. Wilbur saw his teeth are covered by braces. "Awesome. I'm Caleb Noels." He held his arm out to Wilbur.

He gave Caleb a smile back and shook his hand. "Wilbur. Wilbur Robinson."

Both boys dropped their hands. "Robinson? As in Cornelius Robinson? The famous inventor?" Caleb asked Wilbur. Excitement clear in his voice.

Wilbur wanted to mentally slap himself. "Yeah. He's my dad."

Caleb's eyes go wide with amazement. "That's so cool!"

Wilbur shrugged his shoulders. "Eh. I guess so."

"What's it like?" Wilbur gave the boy a confused look. "To have him as your dad, I mean. I bet it's awesome. Do you get to help him with his inventions? Get to have them first?"

Wilbur sighed at the questions Caleb was giving him. "Actually, when my dad's inventing something new, he locks the doors to his lab. He keeps everyone in my family out. His prototypes tend to explode a lot. I don't really help him create them, I tend to help destroy them." Wilbur explained. "My dad doesn't like me to use his inventions. They mainly help get me into trouble."

Caleb gave Wilbur a grin. "I bet. Sounds like you have a lot of fun around your house with your dad and all."

Wilbur was just about to tell him that wasn't even the half of it, when their teacher walked in as the bell rang. Both Wilbur and Caleb sat straight at their desks, as well as the other students.

This class was no different than his previous ones. Every teacher started out by explaining what the course was about and what they would learn. They introduced themselves to them and told them a bit about their lives. They explained the rules of the class, which to Wilbur, every class so far had the same rules. No eating in class. No cheating on tests or quizzes. Have to ask before leaving the classroom for bathroom breaks. Cell phones off and put away. If seen in use, the teacher will take it away for the rest of the day as a warning. The next thing to happen was the teacher asked each of his students to stand and introduce themselves to him and everyone else.

Wilbur regretted when his turn came up. What made it worse was that he was the last. Wilbur said his name strongly and said one thing he loved. Of course he said Chargeball. After Wilbur sat down at his desk, his teacher, Mr. Rice, gave everyone their Algebra text books. Wilbur skimmed his eyes over the pages he flipped, and narrowed his brows at the complicated looking formulas. But Wilbur knew math came pretty easy to him after learning the new material. He picked up on it rather well. Though he kept that a secret from, well, everyone. He didn't want to ruin his cool reputation by letting people know he actually liked learning in school. Math and Science were awesome subjects, but of course History was his best subject. When it came to Language Art's he utterly failed at writing, but he told himself he would try harder this year to get it right.

Wilbur hadn't noticed he tuned out from the speech his teacher was giving the class, until after he was finished. He glanced over at Caleb with a questionable look and tapped his shoulder.

"What did he say?" Wilbur whispered.

"He wants to see how much we know. Do the practice problems before chapter one." Caleb whispered back. "On page ten."

Wilbur gave him a smile. "Thanks."

He heard Caleb give him a 'no problem' as he opened his book. When his brown eyes fell over the set of ten problems, Wilbur gulped. After fishing out a sheet of lined paper and his pencil, Wilbur began trying to solve the problems one by one. They didn't seem to hard, but Wilbur was wondering if he was solving them correctly. It took him the rest of the class period to finish them. When his eyes looked up from his paper, all the other students were still working them out. He had finished first. The annoying bell rang loudly through the school, and Wilbur collected his things then shot for the door. As they passed through the door, everyone gave the teacher their paper with the ten problems. Wilbur knew he had finished them all, but wondered how many got done for all the others.

His next period, Wilbur spent most of his time tapping his pencil on the table. He questioned what he was supposed to do the whole time. He got bored from just sitting and waiting for the bell to ring, so he got up and walked around in the library. He looked at the different spines of books. He passed by Non-Fiction and Fiction books. Science books. Picture books. Wilbur never really liked reading. He would try, but his eyes would start to close and he would fall asleep. That's one thing he didn't get from his mom. She, on the other hand, enjoyed sitting for hours reading a book. It was nearly impossible to talk to her when she had a book in her hand.

Finally, the bell rang and he grabbed his bag. Wilbur made it down the two-hundred hall, and walked back into the class he started in. Homeroom. Which was also his U.S. History class. Wilbur glanced around the room to find a desk, and to his surprise Caleb was waving at him. Wilbur smiled at the only person he knew so far, and slipped into the seat next to him.

Wilbur, of course, had tons of friends last year. He had seen a few in the halls, but decided to just walk past them. They were all busy talking to other friends they had known. Wilbur didn't make a big deal about it, most of his friends last year only wanted to hang around him cause of his dad, and to play the latest Chargeball game. That was the only thing he got first before anyone else.

He dropped his bag next to his feet and turned to Caleb. "Are you following me?" Wilbur tried not to laugh, but he was failing miserably.

"What would be the fun in telling you if I was?" Caleb said back with a smirk. "I'll let you figure that one out genius."

Wilbur punched his arm the way a friend would. Were they friends? "I'm gonna say you are, because I'm just that awesome." Wilbur ran his hand through his black cowlick.

Caleb pushed Wilbur against his arm. "If you say so Captain Chargeball." He rolled his eyes playfully.

The bell rang once more, and the teacher they both met at the beginning of the day, walked through the door and closed it. Both boys followed her as she made her way to the front of the class. Mrs. Davis started her lecture on how the class will go. What chapters they would cover. The rules she had for her classroom. She handed everyone their textbooks they would learn from. She remembered a few of the faces she met that morning, but had everyone stand and introduce themselves to the others. When Wilbur went, students muttered under their breath when they heard his last name. He didn't catch what they whispered, but could guess what it was about. After everyone had introduced themselves, Mrs. Davis gave the last ten minutes of class to talk amongst themselves. Wilbur quickly turned to Caleb.

"So, what is the rest of your family like Wilbur?" Caleb asked.

Wilbur tapped a finger against his chin. "If I could describe them in one word it would be… unique."

Caleb stuffed his new textbook inside his green backpack. Black chiffon strips covered the front. "Why do you say that? I'm sure your family is no different than mine."

Wilbur raised a brow at his companion. "I really doubt that Caleb."

"Enlighten me then." Caleb dared him.

"Well for one, pretty much all my family lives in my house. Except for my mom's side." Wilbur started, but then quickly stopped himself. Everyone in Todayland knew about his family. "Why are you asking?"

Caleb gave a grin. "Well, I think it's best to get to know your friends."

"But everyone knows about my family. You knew who my dad was."

"Oh," Caleb exclaimed. "I just moved here. I only know your dad's name and what he does at Robinson Industries."

With a look of surprise, Wilbur told Caleb about his family. From his best friend Carl all the way to his mother's singing frogs. About his Uncle Gaston's cannons, his Uncle Art's spaceship, Aunt Billie's 'toy train', and his cousins Laszlo and Tallulah's constant fighting. Wilbur told Caleb all about his family members and what made them unique. Wilbur also told him that everyone except his grandparents, his parents, and Carl were away on vacation. Wilbur ended his story with his trip to his mother's concert thing.

"Your mom performed with her frogs over the weekend?" Caleb asked.

"Nah, mom performed a piano piece she wrote. I didn't even know she played. I'd never heard her play until last night." Wilbur shrugged. "She was pretty good."

"Neat." Caleb rested his chin against his palm. "Your family is definitely more unique than mine." He gave a laugh.

Wilbur asked Caleb to tell him about his family. Caleb went into a tale about his dad. It turned out that his dad was transferred over to Robinson Industries, and that's why they moved here. He told Wilbur that his dad was the head security guard at his last job, and they offered him a job at his dad's company. Wilbur dropped his smile at the reminder of Bobby's death.

"Wilbur?" Caleb asked and he looked up at him. "You okay?"

"Huh?" Wilbur put on the best smile he could. "Yeah, I'm good. It's just the guy your dad is replacing was a good friend of my family. His name was Bobby."

"Then why did you replace him if he was that close?" Caleb asked.

"It wasn't a choice. Bobby was killed." Wilbur said with an angered tone and his brows lowered.

The bell rang to signal the end of the school day and Wilbur bolted out the door. His fist wrapped around the strap of his bag rather tightly. Wilbur stomped through the halls to get to his locker. He tossed his bag against the lockers and let it drop to the floor. He dug through his pocket to get the tiny paper with his combination. He punched in the numbers on the keypad, and opened the door when it popped unlocked. Wilbur shoved his new textbooks inside. Not bothered to organize them. He was to angered to care. But he questioned why he was angry. Was he angry at his new friend? Mad at the person who took Bobby's life? Or was it that Bobby left him?

Bobby used to play with Wilbur when he was a kid. When Franny had something important to do, or just needed a break from the hyper child, Cornelius would take him to work with him. Bobby would stay around to entertain him. They would play hide-and-seek or a board game. Bobby would even play superhero with him. Wilbur would race around the building with a cape flowing behind him. Bobby became like an older brother to Wilbur. He could feel his eyes burn as the tears threatened to fall down his cheeks. Wilbur blinked his eyes and slammed the locker door closed. He hit the red button to lock it once more. Wilbur grabbed his lightened bag, and turned to head out front.

"Ah!" Wilbur jumped back. "So not cool, dude!" Wilbur cried at Caleb and pointed his finger.

Caleb gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. And I'm sorry about Bobby. I didn't know that's what happened. I didn't mean anything of it."

Wilbur lowered his finger and slumped his shoulders. "It's okay. I guess I overreacted on that. It still hurts."

Caleb nodded his head.

Both boys headed out the front doors of the school, and Wilbur looked around. His brown eyes spot the golden, metal friend he loved. Carl gave a big wave to him and Wilbur waved back.

"Come here." Wilbur motioned Caleb with his hand. "Want you to meet someone." Both boys walked across the campus to the robot waiting on the sidewalk. "Caleb this is-"

"Carl!" Caleb spoke before Wilbur could get his name out.

"Yeah. Carl this is my new friend Caleb."

The robot was forced to shake Caleb's hand. All three of them walked home together. Caleb's home was halfway between the school and Wilbur's house. Once the boy's said good-bye to each other, Wilbur and Carl continued the walk home in silence. When they stepped onto the porch, Spike and Dimitri poked their heads from the plants beside the doors. Wilbur looked at them. Waited for them to argue over who would get their doorbell rang, but they just lowered their heads back down and disappeared. Wilbur ran to the plant Dimitri lived in and looked around the dirt. He questioned how they managed to disappear and move to a new plant around the house. No one would tell him the secrete.

Wilbur and Carl walked into the house when the clock was close to four-forty p.m. They walked through the entry hall and through the family, or whatever they called it, room and into his bedroom. Wilbur face planted onto the couch against his wall. His school bag leaned against it. His muffled voice asked a question to Carl.

"What?" Carl asked. He extended his neck so his ears were closer to Wilbur face. Wilbur asked his question again, but it was still muffled. "Little buddy, you're gonna have to lift you head up from the cushion. I can't hear you."

Wilbur pushed his face up from the couch and sighed. "I asked 'When is dinner?'"

Carl looked away from Wilbur, to the window, then back again. "I don't know."

Wilbur pushed himself into a seating position and glared at Carl. "What do you mean you don't know?" Wilbur asked. "You and mom should have been deciding what to make already. It's nearly five."

Carl held a hand out. "Yeah, but she's not here."

"She hasn't come home yet?"

"Nope."

Wilbur looked at the floor. "She said she would be back before I got home."

"She hasn't."

"Then where is she? I'm starving." Wilbur reached for his cell phone in his bag. He unlocked it and searched for his mother's number. He hit the projector button and waited for her to pick up. The call went to voicemail. "Mom always picks up when I call."

"Maybe she is busy or driving." Carl suggested.

"That's why she puts it on projector mode." Wilbur said as if it should be obvious to the golden robot. "I'm going to call dad. See if he's heard from her."

Wilbur touched the screen to call his dad. Cornelius didn't hate when his son called him at work, but didn't particularly like it. Wilbur tended to only call him when it was an emergency; that is if he couldn't get ahold of Franny. Which in this case he couldn't. That's an emergency right? He was starving and dinner wasn't being made. His stomach growled just before his dad picked up.

"Yes Wilbur?" His father's voice came over the speaker. "I'm extremely busy here."

"Yeah, yeah I know with the break in and everything, but I was just wondering if you've heard from mom?" Wilbur spoke quickly. He waited for his father to answer.

"Yeah." He spoke finally. "The director asked her to stay a few more days. She sent me a text earlier to let me know."

Wilbur pouted, even though he knew his dad couldn't see. "But dad," he whined. "who's gonna cook food? I'm starving over here."

He heard his father sigh annoyingly through the speaker. "You are old enough to fend for yourself until she gets back, son. It'll only be two more days. Have Carl help you."

Wilbur scoffed. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Yes, I know." Cornelius laughed. "But, I don't want the house burnt down when I come home."

Wilbur mocked his father's words. "Thanks for the belief dad."

"No problem. Now I have to go." Cornelius said. "I'll see you when I get home."

"Yeah, yeah. Bye." Wilbur hung up the line after his dad said bye to him.

How was he to survive two whole days without his mom to make him food? Does that mean he has two more days of Lucille's homemade lunch?!

' _Great.'_

* * *

 **A lot of FanFiction's I read about this movie, almost all of them say Wilbur hates school or he stinks at it. Yes, he has his cocky attitude, but he acts like my little brother. And he's actually very good in school. So, hope you liked. I kinda laughed at my own writing near the end. That was an actual conversation I had with my brother when he got home from school last week. He's always hungry.  
Anyway, hope you liked at least some part of it, and I'll see you guys in the next chapter.  
Review if wished! I know I wish it.**


	25. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen  
Cornelius

 _Todayland: Monday, August 24th, 2037_

 **H** is forehead smacked against the wheel to his flying car. His blonde feathery hair swished around before it stilled once more. He let his fingers uncurl from the wheel and fall into his lap. He lifted his head from the wheel and against the head rest connected to his seat. His blue eyes lifted up to the mirror connected to the glass. In the middle of his forehead was a red mark. He rolled his eyes at himself.

Cornelius could feel the stress flow through his body as if it was his blood at the moment. The police had stayed all day long. Every second he turned his back to get started on his latest invention, they pulled him around. Like a puppet. A man on a string. They asked him millions of questions. Had him read millions of papers. Said his name at least a million times. Cornelius had just about bolted out of his office and to his car when seven o'clock came around. He flew through the air of Todayland with the rain banging against the glass as light as a feather. Tiny drops the size of pebbles danced through the air and landed on whatever was beneath them. Cornelius had to keep hitting the lever up to make the wipers skate across the glass and back down. The rain wasn't coming down fast enough for him to put the lowest level on for the wipers. When he finally landed the car inside the garage, Cornelius felt like he finally took his first breath that day.

He looked at the watch clasped around his wrist. He was actually on time for dinner for the first time in weeks. But they are down another family member. Cornelius missed having his entire family home for dinner. The buzz of everyone's voices mixed together. The laughter of Franny from a joke Wilbur told. Laszlo flying around the room with his dinner, Tallulah telling her brother to quit knocking into her hat. Billie sending her mini train around the table to deliver food to those who asked. Petunia complaining about the dinner choice Franny made, and ask for something else. His brother-in-law's, Gaston and Art, having a deep conversation on who is a better meatball thrower. His favorite part of dinner was when Gaston tested Franny's skills. Of course, Wilbur always started it between the two siblings. He would throw a piece of food from his plate at Gaston then blame Franny for it. Cornelius always noticed when Gaston would load his tiny cannon. He would always shoot it when Franny was distracted. Although when those two battled, Franny normally won. Everyone would praise Franny for her victory, and then finish dinner up.

He smiled when the memory of Franny and Gaston's first food fight popped up. Art was actually wanting Gaston to launch a meatball into his mouth. Art kept saying "put it in the hole." Franny had jumped onto the table and intercepted the meatball before it could reach Art. She had screamed "get down!"

But tonight, it would only be Wilbur and his parents. Everyone else was on vacation and Franny was still in Moorestown. Five hours away from him. Thinking no more of it, Cornelius grabbed his leather bag and headed for the garage door. He made sure it was closed tight and locked it. He walked the short distance to the other garage door that would take him to the family room. The second he stepped through the door, the sweet aroma of food hugged his nose. His mouth started to water and as if on cue his stomach growled. Cornelius tossed his bag on one of the many couches on his way to the kitchen. Once he rounded the set of stairs, his blue eyes fell over the golden form of Carl and the slender figure of his son, Wilbur.

Cornelius leaned against one of the pillars to the kitchen and watched as they both stood before the stove. Wilbur was mixing together something in a pot with a wooden spoon. Carl was giving him pointers on what he was doing. He saw as Wilbur released the spoon and grabbed the pot. Cornelius took a step forward, but he was too late. Wilbur yelped in pain, and dropped the pot back onto the stove. He grabbed his hand to try and stop the burning.

"See?!" Wilbur shot at Carl. Irritation clear in his face. "This is why mom does all the cooking! I always manage to hurt myself." Wilbur waved his hand around in the air to try and cool the burning.

Cornelius stepped up to them both, and reached for Wilbur's injured hand. "Come here." He led his son over to the sink and turned the water on. He pulled Wilbur's red hand under the rushing cool water. "Better?"

Wilbur avoided his gaze and nodded his head. "Thanks."

Cornelius leaned against the countertop and shoved his hands into his lab coat pockets. "So, what were you cooking?" He asked to fill the silence that surrounded them.

Wilbur gave him a side glance. "Mac-and-cheese." Wilbur shrugged. "Well tried to."

"How do you think you did?" Cornelius asked.

Wilbur held his injured hand up to his dad. Droplets of water spilled down his arm and dripped into the sink. "How do you think I did?"

"Look, burning yourself is just part of the process of cooking." Cornelius said with a side smile.

"Well," Wilbur put his hand back under the water. "I'll just leave the cooking to mom. She seems to know what she is doing more than I do." Wilbur turned the water off and dried his hand with the rag next to the sink.

"I can agree with you on that one. Your mother won't even let me help her cook dinner." Cornelius walked over to the stove and looked inside the pot. "She yells at me to go away if I touch anything."

Wilbur laughed. Carl walked over to Wilbur and looked his palm over. "Good." Carl said. "It's only a small first-degree burn."

Cornelius grabbed two square bowls from the cabinet. "So, let's see how you did."

Wilbur gave him an unsure look. "You're positive you wanna eat that? I am pretty sure I messed it-"

"The directions are on the box. I don't think you can mess it up that bad Wilbur." Cornelius filled both bowls with mac-and-cheese and they both sat at the island. "We'll try it together. On three."

Cornelius and Wilbur both shoved a fork full of shell mac-and-cheese into their mouth on three. The only kind of mac-and-cheese Wilbur will eat. He says the three cheese packet of sauce is the best of any kind, so it's the only brand Franny buys. Cornelius swallowed the chewed noodles, and raised a brow. He looked at his son, and praised him for going a job. Wilbur brushed it off, and continued to eat his filled bowl. Cornelius watched as he didn't even give himself time to chew the noodles before he shoved another fork full in. Cornelius had to slow him down before he choked himself. He thought that would be interesting to tell Franny when she got home. Wilbur choked on mac-and-cheese.

Cornelius asked Wilbur how his first day of school went. Wilbur went into story mode as he told him about his day. He started when he found out about his FCAT score for math. Cornelius was shocked for a second then felt his chest over load with pride. Wilbur didn't notice as he waved his arms around during his story. Wilbur told Cornelius a little bit about each class. He paused his story to ask what he was supposed to do during study hall, but he didn't give him a chance to utter a word. He told him about how heavy the textbooks were and how he'll need surgery on his shoulders before the school year would end. Cornelius laughed at his son, and Wilbur scowled at him. He said he was being serious. Carl couldn't help but laugh at the youngest Robinson member as well. Wilbur started to pout. As Cornelius grabbed both empty bowls covered in extra cheese, Wilbur finally went into telling him about his new friend, Caleb. He mentioned that the boy just moved to the city and his dad being the new guard at Robinson Industries. Cornelius told Wilbur that it was great he made a friend on the first day. Making a comment on how he didn't have many while he attended school. They didn't really talk about Bobby or the new guard.

Wilbur told him that he was going to his room to play a round of Chargeball before bed. Cornelius called out to both Wilbur and Carl to not stay up to late. Wilbur shot a 'sure thing' over his shoulder to him then disappeared around the stairs. With a sigh, Cornelius decided to head upstairs to his room. He had nothing else to do. He had no clue where his parents were, and didn't bother to look for them. His feet carried him up the two flight of stairs and down the hall. His eyes looked around the tall walls and vaulted ceiling. He glanced over the pictures that hung along the walls of his family. As he passed the large window seat, he noticed the beige curtains slowly move in a graceful sway. His feet carried him to the window. He reached his hands out and pulled the window toward him to close it. He wondered who left it open, but didn't think long on it. He pushed his bedroom door open, which was already halfway opened.

He flipped the switch and the room flooded with light. He quietly closed his bedroom door, and shrugged his lab coat off his shoulders as he made his way to the couch. He draped the white fabric over the back of the couch, and leaned against it. His mind thought of things he could do until he was tired enough to sleep. He realized he was exhausted already, but it was only a bit past eight. If he slept now, he would wake up to early. He removed his glasses to rub his sore eyes. He fished his cell phone out from his pocket after he put his glasses back on, to check if he had any calls or messages. He had turned the ringer off when he got to work. The only reason he knew Wilbur had called him earlier was because he had his phone rested on top of his desk. His screen showed nothing. He hadn't heard anything from Franny since this morning when he replied to her text. His finger opened his messages to his conversation with his wife. He still smiled whenever her contact name came on his screen.

" _I want to let you know I'm staying an extra day. The director stopped me on my way out and wanted to discuss_ _something with me. I'm not sure what it is about, but I should be back home early Wednesday morning."_

" _Okay honey. A little disappointed you aren't coming home, but I understand the need to stay. I'll see you Wednesday._ _I love you."_

His eyes read the last message she sent over and over again. She never replied to him. He figured it was because she was busy. He looked at the time and figured she would be back in her hotel room by now. His thick fingers quickly typed a message to Franny, and then he hit the button to turn the screen off. He placed his phone on his end table when he passed by it into the bathroom. He decided to take a shower and change into comfortable clothes.

Cornelius stood under the scolding hot water. The steam fogged up his glasses that he didn't bother to remove. He let the streams of water rush through his uncontrollable hair and down his arms. Falling like tiny waterfalls off the tips of his fingers. He didn't grab his shampoo or his soap. He just stood there in the middle of the tiled shower. Feeling the hastening water circle the drain around his toes. Cornelius rubbed his palms over his face to remove the water sinking over it, but after he did he question why. As soon as he removed his fingers the water came right back. Cornelius leaned his neck back so the water moved from pounding in his hair to his face. He let his brain roam freely. All his attentions turned to Franny. Yes, he missed her. The last he saw her was over twelve hours ago. She would already be home, but had to stay behind. He wished he had walked back to the hotel with her. But instead, he gave her what she wanted. Time to think about the events that happened around her. She had sent him a message letting him know she got to the room safely while he was finishing up dinner with his parents and Wilbur. That gave his mind some peace. Cornelius straightened his neck and wondered if these thoughts go through her head when he's away on a business trip. If she missed him this much.

Frozen water came crashing against the bubble that formed from deep thought. He made quick work with the shower knobs to get the water to stop. Well, he wasted all the hot water before he could complete his shower. Good thing he took one that morning. His bare feet padded across the bathroom floor to the closet. His hand opened the closet door as the other held the towel around his hips. He changed into a pair of boxers and dark blue pants with a long sleeved light blue shirt. He tossed his work clothes inside the white plastic basket in the corner before he walked out. He brushed his teeth. He flipped the switch down to cut the light.

His eyes looked down at the clock on Franny's bed side table next to her side of the bed. It was nearly nine. Cornelius turned the lamp on his side table on, then the light to the room off. He made his way to the left side of the bed and plopped down. His head pushed into the pillow. His damp hair transferring water onto the nature, floral sham pillow case of light blue, brown and cream. He opened his eyes and turned his head on the pillow to the book and phone rested near the edge of his glass table. He pushed his body to sit up on the embroidered floral pattern matching comforter. He pulled the book into his lap and opened it to the last page he read. The title of the book he was nearly done with was 'Dune.'

His eyes scanned over each sentence and every word. His brain worked to figure out how the book would end, but many different out comes where possible. He worked his brain harder to figure out which one was the most likely. He flipped the last page and read the last couple of sentences. He had picked the right ending choice. He closed the hard cover. He reached under his glasses to rub the itch in his right eye. Cornelius yawned and stretched his back out from sitting like he had. He looked at the clock again, and his eyes widened. He hadn't realized two hours had past. The clock read eleven-six p.m.

Cornelius put his finished book back on the tables edge. He slipped the comforter from under himself and slipped the silk white sheet and comfort up to his chest. He turned his body on his right side to face the lamp. He extended his long pale arm over to turn the lamp off. Before he placed his head on the pillow again, he turned his phone on, but to his disappointment there was no answer from Franny.

' _Is she still busy?'_ Cornelius wondered. _'Or is she asleep?'_

He opened his phone by the prints on his thumb. He sat up on his elbow and opened his phonebook. He scrolled down to Franny's contact. He knew it was late, but he called her anyway. The phone rang and rang, but it went to her voicemail. Her cheerful voice came through the speaker.

" _Hey! Sorry, I missed you. Leave me your name and a message. I'll do my best to get-Wilbur you put Frankie down this instant! No! Don't put him in-"_

Cornelius couldn't help but laugh at his wife's voicemail greeting. She still hadn't changed it since Wilbur was five. Always kept saying she would, but it still remained the same.

He turned his screen off and put it down on his book. Cornelius flopped down on his pillows, ran a hand through his hair, and stared at the ceiling. He wondered what she was doing and if he should be worried that he hadn't heard from her. He shook his head and removed his glasses. He pushed the worry away. He knew that Franny was fine.

* * *

 **Just a quick note. Caleb is not really an important character. He may pop up through certain chapters or mentioned, but otherwise he's of no importance.  
** **But, hope you enjoyed. Next chapter is going to be very fun to write and for you guys to read. Until the next update.  
** **Review**


	26. Chapter Eighteen

**I am so sorry it took a few days to get this chapter up. I know many of you want to know what was going to happen next. I had a horrible writers block. I could not get the right words to flow. I had different ways this chapter could have gone, but I am very happy with the way this turned out. Gives me goosebumps reading it. I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

Chapter Eighteen  
Franny

 _Unknown: Monday, August 24th, 2037  
Present_

 **H** er brown eyes snapped open once more. The light above her head nearly blinded the sore orbs until she squinted them shut tight again. Franny slowly blinked the heavy lids open. Letting a little light in bit by bit. When her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw the same black room she had seen when she awoke the first time. She questioned when she had fallen asleep then scolded herself for letting it happen.

' _How long have I been out?'_ She questioned.

Her arms felt like thousands of tiny needles were poking all over them. Franny went to move her arms to try and unstiffen them and get blood to flow, but the single movement caused her wrists to burn. She stopped her fidgeting to make the burn subside. She had briefly forgotten about her earlier attempt to remove the rope. Her stiff arms began to ache again. The longer she sat the way she was the ache would only continue. Franny would have removed her arms from around the back of the chair, but her tied ankles to the legs of the chair prevented her from standing.

Franny mentally told herself to just stay still, remain quiet, and wait to see what was going to happen. She repeated this over and over, but in the end Franny knew what she was going to do. She wasn't going to just sit and wait. No, that wasn't her. She was going to get the rope off her wrists, and free herself from the chair. She was going to get out of there. No matter how much pain it caused her.

A deep breath in, Franny began to wiggle and slide her arms around under the rope. The rough, itchy texture rubbed over the raw skin again. She ignored the ache that moved through her arms and the burn over the skin of her wrists. She tried different ways to loosen the rope. Every way she tried the rope stayed secure around her skin. Franny became frustrated after a few minutes of failure. Her stubborn nature quickly blocked her commonsense, and she tried harder to free herself. The rope dug deeper into her burning skin. Franny bit down onto her bottom lip to keep herself from screaming out, and focused her mind to the task at hand. The warm air that circled around the room, well at least she thought it was a room, caused beads of sweat to slowly roll down the sides of her face. She gave a hard pull of her wrists to stretch the rope out, but it only caused the roughness to scrape and dig against her skin.

"Ah!" Franny yelp. She stopped all her effort to loosen the rope.

Her teeth bit extremely hard into her lip as she waited for the pulsing pain to stop. Franny pushed back whatever tears pricked at her eyes. She wasn't going to cry. Warm, sticky liquid pooled under the rope. She felt it crawl over her palms and down the length of her fingers. One by one she felt it drop off her nails and heard it splash to the concrete floor behind her.

 _Drip…drip…drip._

Franny didn't have to see her hands to know what was streaming over her fingers. She knew what was tickling her palms. Her blood. She had rubbed the rope hard enough against her skin to draw her own blood. Franny dropped her head to stare at the cracked floor beneath her feet. The continuous drip of her blood on the floor was the only sound to fill the silence closing in around her. She counted the space between each drop to occupy her thoughts.

 _Drip._

' _One. Two. Three. Four.'_

 _Drip_

' _One. Two. Three. Four. Five'_

 _Drip._

Franny moved her eyes to the white flats that covered her feet. She wondered why she was wearing them. She didn't own very many flats, two to be exact, all the rest were heels; maybe a pair of sandals for the beach. She wiggled her toes and watched as the tips of her shoes pushed out then dropped back when her toes did. She moved her toes up and down a few more times before she stopped. Her brows lowered over her eyes. Franny curled her toes into the souls of her shoes. They were damp and squishy.

' _Wet?'_ Franny searched her tender head for an answer. Her brain seemed to spin with her thoughts banging against her skull. _'The rain! I was walking through the rain to get back to my hotel room. I lost one of my shoes in a puddle! But what happened after that?'_ Franny questioned herself. _'Well somehow you ended up tied to a chair in a dark place with only one source of light. So, whatever happened between then and now wasn't good.'_ She scowled at her sarcastic answer to her own question.

Franny moved her arms to get in a semi-comfortable position when the ache came back, but when she jerked her arm to rid it of the twisted muscle the rope slipped down to her hands. Franny gave the slightest gasp while she wiggled her aching wrists again. The rope slipped past her fingers and fell to the floor behind her. Franny swung her arms in front of her so fast they blurred for the tiniest second. Her arms were freed. But her wrists were not freed of the pain the rope caused. Under the light of the dim ceiling lamp, Franny looked over the bleeding skin.

She was surprised that the bleeding wasn't worse than what she saw. Along the underside of her wrists were a couple small cuts, but deep enough to allow her blood to flow down her fingers. All around the skin was a dark red irritation from being rubbed against so much. Purplish-blue bruises circled over parts of the deep red irritation. The once fair skin was no longer present. The angry marks had taken over. Franny tore her eyes away and bent down to begin the process of freeing her legs. Her nails picked at the thick knot until her blood stained fingers loosened it enough to pull free. Once her right ankle was unbound, she saw bruises circled it. Not as bad as her wrists but a good second. How long had she been tied up like that? With that thought, she began to work the other knot. This ankle looked the same as her right. The millisecond that rope left her skin, Franny stood up from the old, moldy chair.

A sudden heavy weight pushed against her and she stumbled to keep herself up. Her legs transformed into Jell-O. Shook and crumbled under her weight. Franny tumbled to the side; knocked the chair over in her process. The moldy chair crashed against the concrete floor, and so did she seconds after. Franny had a feeling that whoever brought her there and tied her up most likely heard that crash. She forced her arms to move and touch the ground with her palms. Both her arms and her wrists screamed at her to stop pushing her weight against them, but Franny didn't give in. She used every ounce of strength she could find inside herself and forced her body up. When she got herself halfway off the ground and into a sitting position, with her arms still supporting her weight, she heard the _creak_ of a door on old rusted hinges.

Every muscle. Every breath. Every blink of her eyes. It all stopped when she heard the chilling _creak_. The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention when she felt a creeping tingle brush down her spine. The noise of the old hinges dragged out longer than needed to be. The screech wrapped a tight hold over her ears and squeezed. Franny adjusted her arms so she could look around the dark room. Her brown eyes searched in a circle to find where the door was. Her eyes scanned until she saw a faded peek of light coming from behind the wall; where the door must have been. Wooden stairs dropped from the wall and down to the floor. Franny had a sudden idea at where she might be.

' _A basement?'_

A light _thunk_ began once the hinges stopped. She felt her heart bang harder and harder against her ribcage with every beat. At that time her ribcage felt like wooden bars of a xylophone and her heart the mallet that tapped against them. An outline of a shadow came from behind the wall. Her eyes watch as the shadow descended the wooden stairs one by one, until the boots they wore touched the cracked concrete floor.

Franny turned her head back around, and tried to get her body up off the ground. With the extra light from the top of the stairs, she knew where she needed to go to get out of there. Franny bent her leg to help aid herself into a standing position, but before she could even stand up all the way her legs gave out. She tumbled back to the floor. Her palms slipped on the floor, but her elbow caught her left side. Franny was aimed to try again. Her right palm placed flat again, and she started to push.

Sudden thick fingers curled around her upper arms, and began to haul her up off the floor. Franny tried to jerk herself from the tightening grip. She thrashed around within their hold to break free. She tugged her arms forward to break their fingers and then send her elbows into their chest, but they were only met with air. Her feet were lifted from the ground. She kicked her legs out and back to hit them somewhere, but her feet only met with the air as her elbows did. Her efforts continued as they pulled her backwards. One of the hands disappeared from her arm, and wrapped over her chest. Pressed her back against their chest. A breath was forced from her lungs upon the impact. The other hand that gripped around her arm released itself. Her body was forced to lean to the side for a brief moment then straightened again. When the missing hand returned to her arm, Franny tried to take her chance and break their hold. Just as the arm wrapped across her chest pulled away, Franny used her free hand to push them back. At the same time her legs stepped forward to carry her away, and get to the wooden stairs. She got two steps in before her head was yanked back by her hair.

"Argh!" Franny yelled. Her hands reached back to try and pry their fist opened to free her hair. Their fingers dig into her scalp and tugged. Franny let out a yelp from the pain.

Her body was grabbed around her abdomen and pulled backwards by their other arm. Her hair was released and she felt the frizzed mess tumbled over her shoulder and past her breast. Franny tried to claw their arm off her, but her nails only managed to scratch the jacket sleeve over their arm. She kicked her legs to try and knock his legs hard enough to make him release her. Her struggle didn't seem to faze them one bit. Her body was forced back into the old chair. The moldy wood groaned when her body pressed back into it with the force they used. Franny shot her eyes up to the person that just man-handled her. The second she saw their face her eyes widened.

"Glad to see you're awake, sweetheart." Their voice spoke. "For the longest time I thought I gave you to much of that drug. But here you are with a fighting spirit."

Franny stared at the person towering over her. He was about as tall as her husband was. His arms crossed over a half zipped, black jacket and a deep red, V-neck shirt. His broad shoulders relaxed and held back to make him seem taller. His dark wash jeans covered his slightly spread legs. His boots poked out from under the seam. They were a light tan and covered in dried mud. His hair dark and mid-length. Franny mistook it as black until he moved his head around. The light above them actually revealed the deep brown that brushed over his ears. She noticed the white bandage over the left side of his cheek, and that was when she recognized him. He was the guy that found her keys in the parking lot. Franny's eyes looked with his. Pale as any she had ever seen. Lightly grayed and spun with blue to mix. Eyes that were staring right at her just as hers were staring into his.

"Of course," he gave a light laugh. "I didn't expect you to manage getting that rope off your wrists before I returned to you." Franny lowered her brows over her eyes as she glared at him for the insult he just shot at her. "But, I guess now we can have fun together since you've graced me with your complete presence."

Franny trailed her eyes over him as his feet started to move him around her. His boots circled the chair slowly. His eyes shifted slowly over her. Her heart thumped inside her ears, and was almost positive he could hear the beat it made. Her body started to shake slightly when he disappeared behind her. She was too nervous to turn her head to look behind her. When Franny could no long pick up the sound of his boots on the ground, she started to breathe deeply. Her chest pressed outwards as far as it allowed her and pressed back. Her lip quivered under her own exhaled breath. Franny jumped in the chair and tensed her muscles when his fingers brushed over the bare skin of her shoulders. She forced herself to stay still when his fingers slid over her skin and gripped her shoulders.

"Calm, my dear." His lips spoke against her ear. She resisted the shutter at the feeling of his hot breath creeping down her neck. "I know you are excited to begin our fun, but you need to wait just a bit longer."

Franny clenched her teeth as tightly as she dared before she thought they would crack under the pressure. Her anger was starting to boil with the fear coursing inside her. She jerked her head away from the lips that touched her, and turned her eyes to face him.

"You are twisted if you believe I'll let you do anything to me without a fight!" Franny spoke through her lips.

She had put on her bravest face she could manage, but on the inside she was utterly terrified of this man. She had no idea what he wanted from her, but she didn't want to stay long to find out what that was. But with her body being as weak as it was, she thought he must have drugged her, Franny was not able to fight him off as strongly as she normally would. At that moment in time, she was limited in power and completely at his mercy.

"I am not afraid of you, you son of a bi-"

The blow came quickly and left her dazed. The smack was strong enough to knock her body and the chair to the floor with a _thunk_. Franny's right arm slammed down on the concrete with force and she slid a few inches. Pieces of wood from the chair flew around her and rested beside her or on her. She quickly sat herself up and placed the back of her right hand against her left cheek. She could feel the blood pulsing under her fair skin. Never in her life had she been struck like that. Franny's parents punished her of course when she caused trouble, but never received a blow as she had at that moment. It stung and her tears threatened to break past the dam. She sent a death glare at the man headed toward her. Franny racked her brain for something to do to keep him away. She didn't want his hands on her again. He got closer to her. Inches away from her bent legs. Without a second left to think of a solution, Franny lifted her leg from the cold ground and sent her flat shoe into his stomach.

The contact to his abdomen rattled her bones it seemed. She wondered if she caused more damage to herself than him. She watched as he hunched his back. He wrapped his arms around his stomach; trying to catch the breath he just lost from her blow. Franny scooted herself back from him while he fell to his knees. She listened to him cough and gasp. Her body suddenly froze in fear. What had she just done? His eyes shot up to glare fury toward her. Franny gasped as the fear encased around her heart.

"You will regret that sweetheart." He growled at her.

Franny let a scream seep passed her lips. She quickly got herself up from the chilled concrete and to her feet. She pleaded with her legs to not shut down as she stumbled over to the wooden stairs.

' _Run Franny! Just run!'_

Franny sent her feet up each step as fast as she could manage. Her palm scarped along the brick wall to her left. The heavy weight over her tried to push her body down, but she fought against the gravity to keep going. Her feet trip over the fourth step from the top, but her hand against the brick wall steadied her swayed body and her other hand pressed against the stair above the one she tripped over. Franny quickly got herself together and pushed the rest of the way up the stairs. When one of her legs passed over the threshold, her other was grabbed over the bruises. A loud scream tore from her throat as she fell to the floor. Franny looked back and saw his hand was tightening his grip around her ankle. Wanting to get away from him as soon as she could, Franny sent her free leg at him. Her foot connected with his face. She felt him let go of her ankle. She scrambled up from the floor then pressed her body to the wooden door of the basement. After it shut her fingers felt over the knob to flip the latch. But there was only a hole for a key. Franny left the door closed, and spun to look at where she was.

The single bulb screwed into the ceiling engulfed her in white light. Made her look like a white angel from the dress she wore. Her feet race across the floor, away from the door, and the skirt of her dress pressed against her thighs. She passed by a washer and dryer covered with a clear plastic sheet you used to keep paint off your furniture. The plastic rustled when she rushed past it. Her legs were aching, but she continued to run through another doorway, and spotted doubled doors to her right. A shiny gold padlock looped over the two door knobs. Franny didn't stop to try and get them opened. She kept moving forward. Her flat shoes slid across tiled floor of the kitchen as she moved through. Her fingers grabbed hold of the island when she reached it. Her hip bone hit against the corner. She heard the _smack_ before she felt the pain. Franny pressed her palm against her hip to stop the throbbing. She felt like the contact with the counter top made her bone jiggle. Franny looked around the large dusty kitchen. Nothing was helpful to her in that room. She pushed into the open concept family room. Carpet replaced the tile. The bottom of her left foot hurt from the pressure of the floor. She knew that she had hit him good.

Her eyes scanned over the open room. The fireplace, along the wall between two separate halls, was surrounded by two built-in, empty shelves. A beautiful marble encased the fireplace. A large mirror hung above the bare mantle. Two couches were separated by a cloth ottoman in front of the fireplace. All three pieces of furniture were covered by clear plastic sheets. As were the four small square tables at each end of the couches. Lamps and decorative jars were placed over the glass and under the sheet. The crystal, rectangle chandelier that hung from the vaulted ceiling, shone above the ottoman. The light was warm like the glow from a sunset. Her feet raced her over to the French doors when she spotted them. The rug beneath her feet and the furniture was slippery. Her fingers gripped the handles to the glass doors, that lead outside, and pulled with all her strength. The handles wouldn't turn. The doors wouldn't budge. Franny grunted in frustration and smacked her hands against the glass.

Her body turned back to face the dusty room. Her eyes looked back the way she came to see if she could spot the man she had kicked in the face. His outline wasn't there. Yet. A shiver of fear raced over her spine and made her nervous at where he would be. Franny moved her tired eyes around franticly to find a way out. Across from the double doors she blocked was an entry hall. The large front door welcomed her at the end. She dashed across the room to get to it as soon as she could. She nearly connected with the rug when her foot tripped over a leg to an end table. She regained her footing and continued to the door. Franny reached her hands out to wrap them around the knob when she was close enough.

Along her way down the hall she passed by three other open rooms. A dining room to her left. A large table and eight chairs. To her right she passed by a room with a half opened door. She didn't get a good look inside, and didn't want to stop to find out what it was. The next room beside that was an opened living room. Both rooms she could see into had more plastic sheets covering the furniture.

Her body collided with the door. Her left fingers wrapped around the knob, and her right pressed flat against the wood. She twisted the knob and pulled it with both hands. She used what strength she could find that was left, but the door did not open. Her fingers slip along the knob to find the latch for the lock. There was no latch. Just like the basement door her stained fingers only ran over a jagged key hole. The door knob had been switched. She couldn't unlock it from the inside without the key, and she guessed the keys were with him.

' _Is every door like this that leads to my escape?'_ She started to panic.

Franny swirled her body around so her back could slide down the smooth wood. She plopped down to the carpet. She crushed her knees to her chest and locked her arms around them. The soft, flowing fabric skirt of her white dress pooled around her thighs and between her fingers. The semi-dry blood along her fingers seeped into the white skirt as she gripped it tighter and tighter. Her head pressed back into the door and her eyes stared at the wall lamps the brightened the hall she sat in. The tears that threatened to escape the dam earlier came back to slip over her eyes and blur her vision.

So many questions circled her brain and gave her a headache. Questions she wanted answers to. The first being why she was where she was. Why, when she tried to look back at what happened, she got nothing but a big black blur. Who the man was that had taken her. Where the hell she was. Where was her husband and her son, and if they were okay. She only remembers walking through the rain then waking up in that dark room. Hands tied around a chair. Ankles tied. Her body weak and clumsy.

' _Does Cornelius know I'm missing? Is he looking for me?'_

Franny crushed her lids together. She didn't want the tears to fall. There was no time for her to cry. She needed to be strong and have a clear head to make it through her current situation. She didn't need to sit on the floor and weep over herself. Crying and wishing this wasn't happening was going to do nothing for her. Franny knew that the man would be searching for her by now. If she continued to sit there much longer, he would surely find her and she wanted to say as far from him as she could get. The minute she sent her foot into his stomach, in a sort of side kick, she angered him. If he was to catch her, he would make her regret that choice and the decision to send her foot into his face as well. His threat made her fear it more.

All the lights that were on in the house flickered. Franny opened her eyes just when they all shut off. Her small body was swallowed by darkness from inside the house and the outside. Franny let her arms drop from around her legs, and she shoved herself off the floor. Her back rubbed up the front door as she stood up slowly. Her body hesitated to move. With the lights off, Franny knew he was looking for her now. That made it harder for her to find an escape. Franny didn't know the house at all. The man stalking her at that moment knew where every nook and chip of paint was. Her hands shook at her sides.

Franny took in a deep breath, and with a hesitant step she moved to the wall to press herself against. She looped her head around just enough to look across the dining room. The other archway looked into the kitchen. She was searching for him. The moment her eyes fall over him she was going to move around him. Keep quiet and stay hidden as long as she could. A few agonizing minutes passed, but to her it felt like hours, and she saw nothing.

' _Keep calm. Don't panic Franny.'_

Franny removed herself from the wall and turned to look down the hall. The darkness inside gave the house an uneasy feeling. Like a scene from a horror film. Franny enjoyed watching a scary movie to give herself a shot of adrenaline. Cornelius would always remind her that every time she watched a movie like that, she would wake constantly throughout the night with nightmares. Asking him over and over again if he would protect her from the frightening murderer. Of course, she would roll her eyes at him and watch the movie anyway. Then as she bugged him all night long, she knew he was right, but would never admit that. As her brown eyes swirled around the room, jumped at every nonexistent shadow, she felt like she was in a horror nightmare. A psycho killer ready to jump out at her and try to end her life with their weapon of choice. But to her utter devastation, Franny knew she wasn't dreaming. This was real, and her husband wasn't there to wrap his arms around her to erase the fear. Franny took a few steps toward the family room. Her soft steps brush over the carpet.

The buzz of an intercom, like the one she uses in her home, made her ears ring. Her heart skipped in her chest. His breathing could be heard over the speaker, and she twirled around to see if he was around her. Her eyes saw nothing as she spun. Her skirt moving in mixed directions against her legs. Franny froze at the sound of his voice. A voice that sounded like ice freezing over a window.

"Franny," his voice was no louder than a whisper. "you are in my world now. You can't hide from me, my dear."

Her feet felt like they froze to the carpet. Preventing her from moving in her spot. Fear circled over her heart and squeezed it.

"You can't leave before we've had our fun." His laugh rumbled in his throat. "That's rude."

Franny swore she heard the floorboards creak under someone's weight close to her. Panicked, Franny stumbled across the hall, and entered the room next to the living room. She slipped her body through the crack, and spun to face the door. She held her hands out before her as she slowly backed away. Her back made contact with a bookshelf and nearly jumped from her skin. Her hand slapped over her mouth to keep a scream from escaping.

Her eyes widened when she heard his voice again. But his voice was coming down the hall, not over the intercom. She didn't catch what he said. She franticly searched for a place to hide inside the room that looked like a study or library. Beside her were two doors. She yanked them open, and found a rather spacious closet. It was filled with cardboard boxes. Bare hangers hung together against the wall on the metal bar. Binders lined up on the shelf. It was cramped, but she made herself fit. She pulled the doors closed and looked through the crack between.

"Hiding is only going to make things worse. You have no escape." His voice entered the room she hid in. She nearly gasped when his body came into her sight as she looked through the crack. She watched him look for her. When he faced the closet, she jerked back and lost sight of him. "Franny."

He dragged her name out. He stepped up real close to the doors, and she worked every fiber of herself to keep quiet. Letting her breaths through her parted lips as slowly as she could manage. Yelling at her thumping heart to stop beating against her ribcage. She listened for any sound from him. She nearly jumped when she heard his heavy steps fade away from the closet she hid behind. She stood frozen.

' _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…'_

She counted to ten before her fingers pushed open the right side door large enough to look through with both eyes. She was met with a dark room. He was nowhere to be seen. Franny gave herself a quiet sigh, before she slipped through. She crept a few steps toward the door that would take her back to the hall.

' _Where did he go?'_

Franny screamed when her hair was grabbed once again. Fingers dug into her scalp and pulled her body backwards. She yelped when something pinched her arm. She looked over to see a needle pressed inside her skin. A thumb pushed the end of the needle to inject a clear liquid into her. Franny became alarmed and started to thrash around. The needle was removed from her arm and tossed to the floor. That arm crushed her stomach, and pressed her tight against them. Her breath forced from her lungs.

"Hello beautiful." His voice whispered against her neck.

Franny started to feel funny. She could hear her breathing clear in her ears. Her fight became harder and harder for her to keep up with. Soon her limbs refused to even move. Her legs gave out under her weight, but the arm around her kept her up. Franny leaned against him, but not by her own choice. Her head leaned into his collar bone. The sight of the room spun around her and stretched. Her lids became too heavy for her to keep open. They rolled over her eyes.

"Sleep my dear Franny." Was the last thing she heard before everything fell into the darkness of her nightmare.

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	27. Infuriated

Infuriated

 _Unknown: Tuesday, August 25th, 2037_

 **I** slip my arms out from under her slim body after I place her down on the mattress. I move my hand under her head to support it. Once I slip my arm free from under her knees, I lower her head down onto the flat, dirty pillow. The jeweled accessory on the right side of her head, sparkled when the light above hit the jewels just right. I stop to look at how it held her hair. Strands of her ebony hair looped through as it held her cowlick securely in place. I look back at her peaceful features, and finish lowering her head down into the pillow. The hair jewel disappeared in the space between the pillow and her head. A curtain of her thick dark locks hide the left side of her face. I lift my right hand up to remove the frizzy mess from blocking the beauty that she is.

' _When she's not trying to break my face with her foot.'_ I growl inside my head.

I flow my fingers over her left cheek; over the large red mark. A mark that covered more than half of her fair skin. I know it will leave a nice bruise. Even with the lightest touch, like a feather, I could feel the pulse of her blood under the red skin I caused her. The more I stare at it, I come to realize that I don't feel all that guilty for hitting her. She surely deserved it. She may not fear me now, but I will make damn sure she does soon. Her life is in my hands now.

I remove my hand from her cheek, and rest my arm on my thigh like my other. I look down from her cheek to search the rest of her body for injuries. My pale gray eyes follow the curve of her neck to the collar bone that poked out. I move my eyes over every inch of her torso. So far I see no damage she might have inflicted during the excitement of that hunt.

The drug I used to knock her unconscious in her hotel room was still in her system at that time. She was obviously weak, confused and tired. Side effects from taking it. When it was tested many times at Robinson Industries it would cause the subject to wake with one or more of the list of side effects: Headache, muscle aches, exhaustion, memory loss for a short while, nausea, vomiting, sore throat, chills and weakness in the body. Over the long two weeks of testing the drug, it was finally where it should have. Fast results to putting them to sleep and the side effects rare. That is until the accident at the end of two weeks. An accident that landed me into the hospital right after that for nearly two week. On Monday, August 17th, I walked out of that hospital, and knew the truth about Cornelius Robinson. That day changed my life, and now I am changing his.

As I finish looking her over, the only marks I saw she caused herself are the ones around both her wrists and ankles. I grab one of her arms to examine the wounds she inflicted with the rope. Red, raw irritations circled thickly around the thinness of her wrist. Dark purple bruises are clearly visible over the red skin. I run my thumb over the damaged skin and frown at it. I look at the dried streams of blood around her hand. I twist her arm over to look at the underside of her wrist. I see where the blood came from. Along the underside of her wrist are several small cuts, nothing serious, but enough to cause her blood to leave her. I look closer at the cuts and notice dust from upstairs has taken home inside the wounds.

I place her arm back down on the old, stained mattress and stand from my squat. I look at how she remains unmoved. Knowing that she won't be moving anytime soon with the drug I injected her with. I look away from her, and cross the floor of the basement. Along the wall across from the mattress is my wooden table. A table covered with clutters of different things. A stack of papers, blueprints, and a newspaper cluttered the whole left side of the table. I look over the table to find the basket I need. I barely look at the tools spread over the old wood. When I finally spot the red wire basket, I reached for it, and headed back over to Franny. Her body looking so tiny and fragile on the mattress.

I cross my legs on the floor, and place the basket beside me. I dig around the stuffed clutter, and finally pull out a pair disposable gloves. I stuff my large hands through the clinging material, and make sure to pull them all the way over my hands and let them go with a _snap_. I grab both her wrists in turn after seeing if the bleeding has stopped. It did on both. That was good. I placed her arms back down and rummage through the basket to grab the bottle of clean, clear water. I bring her closest wrist over to rest against my knee. I make sure the underside is facing up. I squeeze the bottle and the water sprays out and into her cuts. I flush the dust and dirt from all. Dried blood mixes in with it and runs down her arm onto my jeans. I don't really care that it does. After I finish rinsing her wounds out, I look them over once more to make sure nothing remained.

' _What would be the point of patching her wounds up if they get infected after my efforts? Them getting infected would be a big no. I wouldn't know how to fix that. Taking her to the hospital is an even bigger no.'_

I toss several things over my shoulders as I search for the tube of antibiotic. Several useless things later I finally found it. Neosporin. I twist the cap free and drop it into the basket. I squeeze the tube until the desired amount of clear cream was on my two fingers. I apply a thin layer of the antibiotic cream to help keep the surface moist. I knew that this stuff was not going to make the wounds heal faster, but I apply it to help discourage an infection. Also to help her body's natural healing process. I drop the nearly empty tube back inside the basket and grab the things I need to dress them. Keep the dust and dirt out of the cuts. I open a sterile gauze from the package and place it over a wrist. I secure it on her skin with paper tape. I open a bit of the rolled gaze. I place the dangled piece over the gauze and start to roll it around her tiny wrist. I do about three layers before I cut it and gently tuck it under a fold to keep it in place. I do the same thing to the other wrist and secure it just like her first.

' _There. That should keep it nice and clean.'_ I praise myself on the job I have done. _'At least that back stabbing girl taught me a few things before she walked out of my life three months ago.'_

I get to work cleaning up my mess. Putting the items back inside the basket that I tossed over my shoulder. I pick the full again wire basket up from the concrete floor, and walk it back over to the old wooden table. I scooted it across with a _screech_ ; pushing some of the tools back. I remove the gloves from my sweating hands. Tossing them into the trash under the table.

I twist my body around to lean my butt against the edge. The table creaked under my weight, but I knew it would hold. I've leaned on this table several times. I shove my sweaty hands inside the warmth of my jacket pockets and just look over the sleeping figure of one Franny Robinson.

She looks pale. I bet if she was to be laying in snow she would be close to matching it. I know it was nothing to worry about though. She didn't lose that much blood from the cuts on her wrists. Her pale completion is a combination of her lack of proper sleep and the drug I injected her with. Her fair color would return to the surface once she starts to wake up. I briefly questioned when that would be. I put it inside her about twenty minutes ago. I drum my fingers against the buckle to my belt inside the jacket as I wait for anything to happen.

' _She's a fighter. I didn't expect her to get that rope untied. But once again, Franny manages to surprise those who don't know her well.'_ My thoughts observe. _'What's even more surprising is the power she used to kick me…twice. My nose still hurts from the connection with her shoe. But it's not broken. I cleaned the blood with the sleeve of my jacket before I searched for her. She honestly thought she would get away from me that easy? Or be able to hide in that closet?'_ I smile down at her. _'Sorry sweetheart.'_

Cornelius Robinson. The Founder of the Future. Brilliant inventor. Nerdy.

' _How did he end up with you my mysterious creature?'_ I wonder with curiosity and infuriating anger.

My eyes snap back to her body when the softest groan was bounced to my ears. Her body moves slightly. I wait against the table across the room from her. Her slender arm lifts from the mattress to her forehead. Her palm presses against the smooth skin of her head and into her hair line. Her stained fingers lace through the thickness. Franny pulled her fingers from her hair when she gasped. I'm guessing her head is tender from me yanking her by the hair twice. I smirk. Franny opens her hypnotizing eyes while she slowly sat up on the mattress. The dirty, stained mattress dipped lower from her weight. She looked confused at what she was resting upon. Her body straightened up, and anxiously searched the room around her. Which is fully lit up now instead of the single dim bulb.

"Cornelius?!" Her voice was near screaming and strained.

I couldn't help but laugh at her. I make my way towards her small body. "Sorry dove." I watch as her eyes widen with fright. I smile down at her. "I'm not your husband, but I can be if you wish it." Franny backs against the wall as far as she could get from me. That only makes me smile wider.

She was starting to fear.

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 **Welp, I'm gonna let you think over what possibilities can happen between these two. Is it sad to say I'm enjoying these dark scenes? I mean Franny is my favorite Disney character, don't like causing her pain, well that's a lie, I'm enjoying it a little bit.**

 **sorry this was short, but most of the villain chapters are relatively short. They just give you an insight on how he is feeling or doing.**

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	28. Chapter Nineteen

**I'm not dead! I swear! I'm here!**

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Chapter Nineteen  
Lucille

 _Todayland: Tuesday, August 25th, 2037_

 **B** ack and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Lucille sat on one of the couches pressed against the curve of a stair set in the family room. Her fragile hands folded in the lap of her yellow dress. Her fingers rubbed over her wrinkled skin as if she was soothing pain in her hand. Her spectacles near the tip of her nose, allowing her to clearly see what she needed. Lucille's amber eyes locked on the paced figure. Left and right her eyes followed their form. Their feet moving one after the other. Their black shoes near the point of wearing down the polished marble floor. She glanced away from the figure to the coffee table between her and the overly worried individual. An unorderly stack of lined paper, worksheets, and text books lay over the white surface. Her young grandson sat cross-legged on the floor before her. One of the throw pillows between the floor and himself. A pencil between his fingers and scribbling numbers in his messy handwriting. Wilbur stopped working on his math problem to glance up at her then to the person walking behind him. Lucille did the same as her grandson, and moved her eyes to the still paced figure.

Lucille took in their appearance for the time being as they continued to cause a dent in the floor. The beast they called hair was even more uncontrollable than normal. Blonde anti-gravity strands stuck out in different directions than just up. Their white collared shirt mostly hidden behind a sweater vest. One that was black with a dark blue and light blue diamond pattern. A loosened light blue tie around their neck and tucked under the vest. A pair of black dress pants covered their legs. The white lab coat they wore to work was still snug on their shoulders and swayed with each turn of their body. Lucille glanced over their face. Bright sky blue eyes, mixed with the faintest of green, rested behind the circled frames of their brown glasses. Glasses nearly falling off their nose. Thick blonde brows lowered down. Lips pressed into the thinnest of lines. Finger and thumb gripped the end of their chin. A facial expression of deep thought and worry. Their free hand rested on their hip. Fingers holding onto their belt.

"I don't think the floor can take any more of your pacing, Dad." Wilbur piped up from the ground. Both Lucille and Cornelius looked down at the youngest member.

"I'm not pacing." Cornelius responded with a defending tone while he stopped for a moment.

"Yes you are." Both Lucille and Wilbur spoke almost at the same time.

Lucille saw that Cornelius rolled his eyes at her and Wilbur before he went straight back to walking to and from. His bubble formed around him once more. A bubble that encased around him quite often. Lucille trailed her eyes after him as he walked over an invisible line only he could see. He never side stepped from his set line. She gave the softest of sighs and a shake of her head.

Lucille, although not his birth mother, came to know her son very well over the past thirty years. Adopting the creative inventor at the young age of twelve after his success at the Science Fair. Of course, that was not why she and her husband Bud adopted him. Cornelius, who was still Lewis at the time, was a very special kid. He deserved a family, and Lucille was more than thrilled it was her and Bud who was the family for him. She was there for him through everything as he grew up. She knew when he was upset. She knew when he was on the verge of a breakthrough for an invention. She also knew when he was in love with a young Franny before he knew. Although, when he married her, Franny stepped into the spot of knowing these things to. He would turn to his wife before her. Lucille never became upset about that. Cornelius was no longer a child. He had a family of his own. But, no matter how old he got, he would always be the little boy she knew so well. And at that moment, Lucille knew he was stressed with worry over something kept inside.

Her eyes moved to Wilbur when his body jerked in the corner of her spectacles. She watched as his arms moved things around in his bag. He briefly stuck his face inside, and then continued to search when his face was lifted back out. She gave a soft ' _humph'_ when he stuck his tongue out from the side of his mouth. He gave an _'ah ha'_ face when he seemed to find what he was looking for. Lucille saw his hand held his phone and his white headphones wrapped around it. He made quick work of unwrapping them and stuck them inside his ears. His brown eyes looked at his father before they rolled and shook his head. He touched his glass screen a few times before he placed it on the coffee table. Lucille could hear the faintest noise of his music. Music that might have been a bit too loud.

She looked away from her grandson, who went back to finishing up his homework, and up to her son. He was still paced, but his mouth was mumbling things she couldn't hear. Lucille could no longer take the worry her son was filled with, so she got herself up from the couch and walked over to him. She placed her hand on his arm ever so gently, but it was enough to grab his attention. Cornelius' eyes fell into hers and blinked.

"Come with me." Was all she said to him then headed in the direction of the kitchen.

Her tiny, heeled feet took her through two of the four pillars that marked the doorway between the kitchen and family room. Her body rounded the curved island. She glanced back at Cornelius, who hung between pillars, and motioned with her hand for him to sit in a stool. She opened a cabinet and grabbed a small square plate from the stack and pushed the door closed again. She didn't look at her son when she walked back to the island. Lucille placed her plate down on the smooth surface. Her fingers unwrapped the glass pan that her peach pound cake was in, and cut a slice with the cutter.

"Speak." Cornelius didn't say a word after hers hung between them. Lucille, with her head still lowered, sent her eyes up to look at him. His expression was morphed into perplexity at her request. She lowered her amber eyes back to the piece of cake before her. "You obviously have something going on in your head." She stuck a few fingers inside her mouth to clean the tips of the moist bread of her cake. "I know that you usually confide in Franny about things bothering you, but she is still out of town so-"

"That's the problem." Cornelius spoke. Interrupting her midsentence. At the sound of his deep voice, Lucille turned her attention to her son. "Franny isn't here. That's what I'm worried about."

For a few moments, she didn't speak. "She told you she wasn't going to be back until tomorrow, yes?" Lucille asked. Cornelius gave her a nod. "Then why are you so stressed about her not being here? You know where she is. It's not like she just disappeared and you don't know why. You do." Lucille opened a drawer and grabbed a fork from the pile. "She's away on a trip. Franny doesn't stress this much when you are gone on a trip. She misses you, of course, but doesn't over worry."

Cornelius rested his forehead in his hand. "But when I leave on a trip, I still check up with her. I will answer any message or call her back at every missed call when I can. No matter the time gap between her sending and me answering, I still reply. I haven't heard a peep from Franny since yesterday morning." Cornelius sighed. "I sent her a goodnight message last night. Nothing."

Lucille reached a hand over the countertop to touch his hand pressed flat against the island. Taking notice of the pain and worry that colored his eyes. "She may be too busy to answer you, honey."

Cornelius pulled his hand away from his forehead, his hand away from hers, and sat up straight. "I sent my last message at a time I knew she would be back in her hotel room. When I checked it almost an hour ago, it still said she hadn't read it yet. You don't find that odd?" Cornelius questioned her.

Lucille sighed at her son. She grabbed the plate and lifted it across the island to place in front of Cornelius. "Her phone might be off." She held the fork out and he looked at the plate then the fork puzzled.

Cornelius grabbed the fork from her, but only tapped the four pointed end against the smooth top. "I thought that until I called her this morning. I had passed the point of just thinking she was busy. I was starting to worry." Cornelius stabbed his piece of cake. "Mom, this isn't like Franny. She always checks in. I would at least think she would have gotten in touch with Wilbur. Ask him about his first day of school. But she didn't answer when he called yesterday afternoon."

Lucille stood behind the curved island. Her hands placed overlapped on the polished top. Her attention locked on her son. Her ears fully focused on his words. He was right. For the years she had gotten to know the wonderful young woman, her beautiful daughter-in-law, she had never left people wondering. She always picked up her phone to return the messages she missed.

"Let me ask you something mom." Cornelius stabbed his cake again. Not tearing off pieces to eat, just poking holes in it. "She let me know she made it safe to her hotel room Sunday night. She let me know she was staying longer. I know where she is, and that she's okay. So," his eyes locked with hers. "am I over thinking? Am I stressing myself out for no reason?"

His question lingered between them. Silence giving the answer.

Cornelius didn't give her a chance to answer his question. He simply shoved the plate of unwanted cake away and walked from the room and up the stairs. Lucille grabbed the plate of hole covered cake and was left with a single thought.

' _If Franny hasn't gotten in touch since Monday morning, then is something wrong? Or is everyone just over reacting?'_

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	29. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty  
Franny

 _Unknown: Tuesday, August 25_ _th_ _, 2037_

 **H** er back pressed against the rough texture of the bricks that made up the four walls surrounding her. Her left arm pushed deep into the foul, outdated mattress beneath her to keep the bare skin of her upper back pressed into the sharp surface of the cement that connected the bricks. Her legs slipped across the lumpy top of the mattress to crush underneath her body. The skirt of her flowing dress bunched up on her thighs. The wrinkled material became worse than what it already was. The bright, red spots of her dried blood on the fabric caught in the lower portion of her eyes, but her focus did not depart from the pale eyes. Pale eyes that seemed to observe beyond the bubble she formed around herself. A bubble she wished would turn her invisible, so he could never touch her again. Never look at her again. Her bubble was failing to do her wishes. She pushed her left arm into the mattress as hard as she could while he made his way closer to her. She brought her right arm up. Bent at the elbow and her fingers spread over her pink lips. Her chocolate eyes became wide as the rim of a glass. Similar to a glass she kept in a kitchen cabinet at home. Home. Franny longed to be home than where she was now. No matter how hard she pressed herself into the wall, Franny could not get any smaller from the towering figure that walked toward her.

The instant his mud covered boots hit the edge of the horrible make-shift bed and he lowered to a squat, Franny flung her right arm out. To what? To strike him? To push him away? To shield herself from his eyes? She had no clue as to why she did that action, but it was a mistake to move her body. Let alone her arm. His large hand whipped through the air, from his knee, to wrap around the slimness of her arm. His fingers tightly swathed around her fair skin above her wrist. She gave the slightest winch, but knew it wouldn't go unnoticed by him. Considering the fine detail of him being inches from her. He was so close she could see the flick of blue mixed in his gray irises. The edge of a bad, but slightly healed, burn mark under his white bandage. She could also smell the horrid breath that entered her nose from his lips after he gave a smile. The smell of strong alcohol had over taken his breath and it nearly made her gag from the stench. She wondered for the briefest of moments why she didn't smell it earlier.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, sweetheart." His voice crept past her ears and slipped down her spin. Her back arched from the uneasy his voice sent through her, which sent her shoulders into the brick wall further. The rough texture dug into the skin and caused scratches to form. "I have yet to punish you for your earlier stunt. I don't think you would want it worse by a careless mistake on your part."

Franny felt his threat more than she heard it when the intake of breath stopped in her throat. Her heart quickened its beat inside her ribcage of xylophone bars, but she refused to allow him the satisfaction of knowledge of him sending a spark of fear into her. She tried to jerk her arm free from his hand, but that only resulted in him grabbing tighter. In a quick motion, he pulled her arm toward himself and forced her body away from the wall. The lingering space between them was nearly three inches at the most. Her breathing increased in the slightest, but she forced it to enter and exit her chest as slowly as she could manage. Franny lowered her brows at him until her eyes were in a thin line. Almost like she was challenging him, or just giving herself false bravery.

"I don't make careless mistakes." She spoke to him with a voice a level above a whisper.

His smile nearly reached to the edge of his jaw bone. "Well, you made a very big one when you decided to send your foot to kick me. Twice I might add."

Franny gave the slightest of smirks after her eyes looked down to his nose and then back to his eyes. A dried stream of blood started from the right nostril and traveled down to the tip of his top lip. A small ball of his blood dried there. The red blood seemed to have jumped over the deep pink color of his top lip, and smeared over the middle of his bottom lip. The blood looked as if it had formed a puddle of deep ruby color before it dried there. Along the left corner of his mouth a thick stream of his blood ran down until his chin. Franny also took notice from her quick glance that tiny smudges ran along the right cheek from where he most likely rubbed under his nose when it still fell from the inside; after her swift kick.

"Obviously," she spoke bravely, "I didn't kick you hard enough. I did not break anything."

His fingers tightened on her forearm after the remark. This caused Franny to winch once more and suck in a breath for the pain that began. His pale eyes thinned dangerously as he looked back into hers. Franny could feel the dirty fingernails start to dig into her arm. The upper part of his hand, where his fingers and palm met, pressed against the bone and caused a sharp pain to ache through her slim arm. Franny held back a yelp at the sudden ache, closed an eye tightly together, and pressed her teeth into her bottom lip as hard as she dared. His thumb and fingers clamped down on the muscles in the under part of her forearm. His fingers pressed against the muscle hard enough that it caused her fingers to curl in her palm. Franny bit her lip harder to keep the cry from escaping as his grip continued to tightened. She knew that if he were to keep clamping down on her very tiny, breakable arm, she would fail at keeping her cry locked inside.

Franny did not want to seem weak in his eyes. No that was the last thing she wanted to happen. Giving him even the slightest indicator of her being afraid would give him an upper hand. Once he was given that upper hand, she was no longer in control of the situation. When the situation was no longer within her grasp, but in his, Franny knew she would be at the mercy of the man she met in the parking lot last Friday. She stopped her thoughts from traveling down the dark path of possible things being done to her. She needed to focus on what was happening now, not what could happen.

"If you wish to suffer a far more dangerous punishment, then by all means sweetheart, keep rising my anger level." He threatened. His voice pulled her back from the thoughts of her mind. "You being a woman has no effect on the violent scale."

Before she could blink another time, his hand lifted from her arm. His palm released the pressure from the bone in her arm. His fingernails undug themselves from her muscles. The first feeling she got was the pulsing of her blood under the red skin. Her arm dropped back onto the mattress. His fingers shot towards her face, and she hesitated with another breath. The dirty fingers reached out for her cheeks, and he held her face gently between them. Franny felt his thumb run along her bottom lip slowly. The soft, pink skin of her lip released itself from her teeth when his thumb ran along it. Almost as if the pad was pulling it free from her white teeth. His thumb ran down to her chin and rested there after he reached the other corner of her mouth. The other four fingers on her left cheek slowly ran over it like feathers. Franny glared at him. His gentle touch on her face made her feel uneasy and want to shake. She held in her breath to keep from taking in more of the alcoholic breath that made her sick to her stomach. She did not move to yank her face from the rough pads of his fingers. She did not move the arm he dropped or her other to try and sooth the ache that was becoming rather bothersome. Franny only allowed herself to look upon him and blink when her eyes could no longer remain opened.

"You have a beautiful face." His eyes traveled over her features. "I would hate to paint it with horrible colors of blue, purple and black. It would cover to much of your flawless skin."

He released her cheeks from his fingers and his thumb from her chin, but then began to slowly run the backs of his fingers down the side of her left cheek. The same cheek he had struck earlier and with the same hand he touched it with. She could still feel the pain under her skin, but it had dulled down to more annoying than anything. She could ignore it easily, but she knew the blow he gave would give her a nice bruise. The same went for her right arm. The force of impact she made when hitting her upper arm against the concrete will leave a bruise or two.

Franny pulled her face away from his fingers the second they started to trace her jawline. The feather feel they used to slip over her only made her want to shutter more. Usually, Franny enjoyed the soft-like touches she received, but from her husband not the man giving them to her now. His touch made her skin feel like knives running across the skin in the wake of his fingers. She missed the feel of her husband's hands caressing her skin. The way they felt like water crashing in the wake of Cornelius' fingertips. Like the waves of the beach. The way the water moves over the sand, and then another comes from behind. Franny always wanted more of his touch after he stopped.

"What do you want?" Her question slipped past her lips before she had a thought to form them.

Her eyes locked themselves on the pale irises that studied her. She watched as they flicked down to look somewhere on her body then back up to her eyes. He did this a few times. She wondered what he was looking at each time his eyes darted from looking into her own. Her chest rising up and down as she breathed? Her bare arms filling with goosebumps every time he blinked? Her legs that pressed together as tightly as they could? She wouldn't know. She refused to follow his gaze each time he avoided looking into hers for the few seconds he darted them. He didn't answer her question. He left her question to linger in the small space between their bodies alone. Left unanswered. Left to wonder what the answer would be. An answer she wished to know more than any other.

Franny's burning desire to know what he wanted grew more with each beat her heart made. So far in the amount of time she had spent in his presence, however long that may be, she had been tied up, beaten, and drugged. Her wrists both burned from trying to remove the thick, old rope he used to tie them around the back of the chair. A chair that now laid on the ground sideways, and the back rest broken. Her cheek and entire right arm were sore from being handled by violence. He had manhandled her and she had no answers to many questions that raced inside her. How long has she been there? What day it was? How she ended up in his grasp? But those questions didn't seem to matter that much anymore. Franny wanted to know what he wanted from her. So to get the answer she wanted, she opened her lips again.

"What do you want?" She repeated. "What do you want from me?"

His hands gripped onto both his knees and used them to push himself from the crouch. His legs stretched out bit-by-bit as he pushed himself up to a standing position. Once up to his full height, his body hovered over her own small frame. Franny had to slightly tilt her head back and stretch her neck in the smallest amount, so her eyes could continue to look into his. His eyes looked paler to her now that they were further away. It looked as though there was no color to them at all. He turned his back to her, breaking the connection she had to his eyes. His long legs carried him across the basement floor and to the long wooden table against the wall across from her. He spun on the heal of his dirty boots, much like a dancer would, and leaned against the old wood that _creaked_ upon his weight. He crossed a leg over the other. His palms grabbed the edge of the table and his knuckles turned pale with the force of his grip. His long, dirty fingers tapped against the underside of the wood. His gray eyes, once again, returned to her brown ones.

Franny finally lifted her right arm from the mattress to hold before her and grabbed the new sore spot with her left fingers. Her long, lean fingers gently massaged the ache that tore through her forearm to best sooth her pain. She knew with only rubbing the skin it would not help avoid another mark left from him. Franny was positive a bruise in the shape of his own hand would imprint on her skin. She lifted her head back up, slowly and returned her eyes to him. The shorter strands of her ebony, frizzed hair fell over her eye like a shredded curtain. She waited on the mattress for him to provide an answer to the one question that needed it.

The faintest chuckle finally took the tension of the wandering question away, but replaced it with unease. "What do I want?" He repeated the question she asked through his chuckle. His shoulders jerked up and down with the slightest of movements as the laughter took over. He lowered his shaking head to look upon the ground, but Franny saw his eyes close. His laughter became stronger. His self-known chuckled continued and Franny looked over him with confusion painted on her features.

' _Had I said something amusing?'_

No longer soothing her aching pain, she removed her body from the filthy cushion and stood beside it with hesitation. Her legs shook with uncertainty of being able to hold her weight. Her feet hurt, especially her left foot. Her skin crawled with goosebumps with the chill circling around her. Without thinking about it fully, she began to brush the skirts of her stained dress. Her hands swept over the fabric to remove the wrinkles and get it to flow past her knees like it was made to. With her hands busy doing the uncommand task, she worked at finding out why she was doing it. Was she trying to impress him? Keep herself busy enough so she wouldn't do something rash? Or was it to keep as little of her skin visible as she possibly could? She forced herself to stop doing something so silly, and focus her attention on the man across the room.

"I want to cause pain." His voice finally broke the barrier of silence.

Being unprepared, his voice caused her body to jerk with surprise. Franny hadn't noticed until he spoke that he had stopped laughing to himself, and took to staring at her again. Franny, feeling like she was a child under her father's stern eyes, lowered her head slightly and moved her arms to her sides, so she could hide her hands in the fabric of her dress. Her fingers rubbed the white material between her fingers, and moved her eyes in every direction she could as long as she didn't have to look at him anymore.

"I want to cause the same pain that was inflicted upon me." He spoke again.

Franny's eyes shot up to the bandage upon his left cheek. The bandage that was covering the burn she saw earlier.

' _Pain done to him?'_ Franny's mind took her deep into her thoughts. Forgetting where she was at that moment. Who she was with. The damage done to her by that person with her. Her world swallowed up like a black hole, and left her to stand alone. _'The burn? Did someone do something to cause that injury on his cheek? It doesn't look that old. From the little I saw it hasn't healed completely, but wasn't done yesterday.'_ Her thoughts dug deeper into her brain. A dangerous thought flicked past, and she nearly jumped back. Her throat tensed up. The air struggled to enter her lungs as she tried to force the thought back. _'No!'_ She screamed inside her head. _'No, it can't be. It can't be him.'_ The shock forced her to surface from her brain. Away from her thoughts, and back to the basement room she stood in.

Franny widened her eyes and stopped breathing all together as she looked his features over. Without the hood and sunglasses covering his face, and the need to suppress her fear from his actions, Franny had the chance to take in the detail of his face. Her brown eyes swept around his jawline, chin, and to the tip of his ear on the other side. His face was oval shaped. His lips a deeper pink than her own. Pressed into a line, Franny could still see his upper lip was thinner than his lower. His lips moved whenever he swallowed the building saliva in his mouth. Her eyes slip up the length of his nose. The edges of his nose nearly matching the width of his mouth. His eyes, although knowing the color already, where close together. Much closer than Cornelius' were. The shape his eyes took were downturned in the corners on either side of his nose. His brows, lowered down to give him a dangerous look, were bushy and rounded. His dark brown hair messy around his ears and upon the top of his head. Thick and no longer than the collar of his shirt. Franny, although she wished she could, could not lie to herself when she saw he was not at all bad looking. Even with the bandage covering his left cheek; concealing the healing burn.

Franny finally breathed. Her burning lungs had relief from the lack of oxygen she kept from them. Her chest staggered when the chilled air slithered down her throat and filled her lungs with the needed oxygen. She filed her chest up with so much of the air, that the bodice of her dress constricted against her. Not allowing her lungs to expand any further. She released the transformed carbon dioxide into the room around them. Letting it mix with the oxygen that floated around.

All of her muscles inside her body tightened little by little until they could tense no more. Her fingers released the fabric and let it rest around her legs. She was briefly worried that her tensed muscles would allow her nails to tear holes into the skirts of her dress; though she didn't understand why she cared. Her dress was already ruined from the dirt and blood mixed along the fabric. A few holes wouldn't make much of a difference.

A deep, loud rumble startled Franny. Her racing thoughts finally stopped spinning around in her head and allowed some quiet to fall in her brain. She sent her eyes away from the man across from her, and down to her mid-section. Her focus on her stomach.

' _Was that me?'_ Franny lowered her brows half and inch with her question.

She concentrated her hearing to make sure she didn't just make up the loud, unhappy noise. A louder vibration took place inside her abdomen. Her arms wrapped crisscross over her mid-section to suppress the ugly noise coming from her body. The vibration caused an unpleasant feeling to fill her stomach. Like the tips of knives heated from a flame pressed over and over against her abdomen. Franny tightened her fingers into the skin, covered by her dress, around her hips. Pressing as hard as she could to subdue the pain she felt inside her.

' _How long has it been since I ate last?'_ Franny raked around her brain to figure that question out. But it was useless to try. The last thing Franny could remember was the food fight she had with her son, Wilbur. _'That was what? Last Friday night?'_ Franny shifted her weight from standing straight to leaned on a hip. Her arms still wrapped tightly across her stomach. _'If that and walking through the rain are all I can remember, then what's happened between then and when I awoke?'_

Balls of fabric clenched in her fists. Her nails dug into the smooth palms of her hands when his body moved from the table. She trailed his every move with her dried eyes. A burning sensation developed every time she closed her lids together for the second it took to blink. She tried to blink them faster to rid the burn and regain the moisture. It didn't work. The burn only continued. Franny gave up on her frustrated attempt and studied him carefully. She watched his hands shove themselves into his jacket pockets. The thick, warm fabric wrinkled around his elbows when they bent. Goosebumps returned to her skin as she wished she could be wearing that jacket to have the warmth encase her cold skin. His legs carried his lean but muscle built body away from the table, and toward the staircase along the wall to her right. Her arms dropped from her abdomen, back to her sides when he started to ascend the wooden stairs. His heavy footsteps _clapped_ against the steps as he moved up to the next one. When his body fell behind the wall near the top of the stairs, Franny panicked. He was leaving the basement. She commanded her legs to move her forward to catch up with him. With stumbled steps, Franny moved to the foot of the staircase. She arrived and looked up just as he was closing the door. She saw him smile down at her before he closed the door to block her eyes from seeing him anymore.

Franny raced her weak legs up the steps as fast as she could get them to. She had to run her hand along the brick wall to steady herself and lean against it when she would lose her balance. She fell to her knees on the second to last step. Banging them against the wood with a _thump_. Her eager fingers reached out to circle over the black doorknob. She tried to turn and push the door open. It did not budge. The door knob would not turn all the way. The wooden door did not separate from the doorframe. Franny pressed her shoulder and free hand into the wood of the door the best she could while on her knees. No matter the amount of strength, which was not a lot, she gave into her shove that door was not going to open. It was locked. Her fingers around the black knob ran over the center to feel for a latch. She was not surprised to find nothing but the smooth center. No latch, tiny hole, or jagged key hole. The door could only be opened from the other side. The side she was not on. She released her hands and removed her shoulder. She sat on that step. Her knees brought into her chest, her bare arms wrapped around them, and her chin rested upon her knees.

Her mind panicked greater with the alone time she now had. Her fingers clenched and unclenched on her wrapped arms. Her thoughts took dangerous turns down dark paths she had no reason to go down. Her earlier thoughts gave her an idea at who her kidnapper was but she wasn't positive. She couldn't help but briefly think about what had happened at her husband's work. The horrible accident that took place. Franny shook her head. Franny's mind was exhausted and pounding away inside her skull, which led it to think of dark things and frighten her heart more than it was already.

' _It can't be him…could it?'_ Franny closes her eyes tightly. _'I mean, Cornelius said he was okay with everything that happened. That he understood the decisions made.'_ Franny removed her arms from around her legs and pushed her fingers through her hair. Her fingers hit against the hair jewel clipped on the right side of her head. Her fingers removed from her hair, and ran over it slowly. Feeling it run near her hairline and towards the back of her head. Her fingers made quick work with the three clips that held it in place, and held it before her face in both palms. As she stared over the beautiful piece, she hoped something would come back to her and fill in the missing blanks. Nothing came back to her. Feeling frustrated and worn out, Franny chucked the hair piece at the wall across from her. She watched it smack into the bricks and drop at the bottom of the stairs.

' _If the man behind the door is the same man that was involved in the accident, then me being here is nothing good.'_ Franny pushed her loose, shredded curtain like hair from her face and scolded herself. _'No, you don't know that. Could be a different person.'_

Feeling trapped and more terrified, Franny moved herself away from the door and raced as fast as she could down the steps. The skirts rippled around her legs in the breeze she created in her rush. She came to a stop at the end of the wooden table he had been leaned against, and glanced over the top to distract her mind. Upon the half farthest from her was stacked with paper. White paper. Blue paper. Yellowed paper. Wrinkled paper. Torn paper. All these papers were piled together unorderly. Franny could not tell what papers were on top of the other. Some had fallen down the stack and created a somewhat slide. On the other half closest to her, Franny noticed many tools spread out and a wire basket filled with medical supplies.

' _Wonder if that is used to replace the bandage on his cheek.'_ Franny wondered.

She crossed her arms over her chest, and noted all the different tools. A range from hammers to pliers to cutting tools. Also a few medical needles rested in a stack near the basket. Filled with a clear liquid. The needle looked just like the one he pierced her skin with earlier before she blacked out. She moved her eyes away from them and to a scatter of nails. Rusted and bent nails that would no longer be safe to use to put anything together. She wondered if he pulled these nails free from something built and rebuilt it, or just left it in pieces. Her eyes came across a wooden baseball bat pressed against the wall. The wood cracked in several places and dark spots covered the length of the bat. The grip nearly gone except for the few strips left.

Franny moved her feet to take her over to all the papers scattered around the other half of the table. Maybe she could find something that would tell her who he was. Where he was keeping her. She uncrossed her arms and looked over the different papers. Most of them where faded drawings of things she couldn't make out. Several formulas written along the sides with arrows pointing to a certain area of the drawing. As she worked to solve the equations she noticed that some were smeared, which made the problem impossible to solve. Franny may not have a scientific brain like her husband, but she had spent years looking over his millions of blueprints and could grasp the basic. Plus, it helped that she would spend time in his lab with a book, and tuned into Cornelius paced form and talking equations out loud to no one. Franny stepped closer to the tables edge and put her weight on the tips of her toes, so she could see on top of the largest pile of stacked papers. The mess of many papers reminded her of when she played the piano as a child. She would have stacks of sheet music all over her room and on top of the piano she use to have in the family room of her home growing up. She remembered her brother's telling her to clean the mess up or they would just ruin all of the ones thrown scattered on the floor. Franny pushed the thought away as quickly as it entered. Locking the door behind it. She focused her attention back to the pile of paper.

Placed at the top was a newspaper page. She looked over the headline that centered around the accident that occurred at Robinson Industries. She ran her eyes over the sentences of the printed article in a quick skim. Franny didn't want to allow her thoughts the chance to tell her why he had that newspaper article. She refused to think. Franny reached both her arms out to grab it. She had every intention of ripping it into pieces. Crumbling it up into a tight ball and throw it across the room. But her arms stopped halfway through the process. For the first time since she woke up on the old mattress, Franny noticed the white dressings over both her wrists. Her arms froze in the air as her eyes glanced them over.

' _When did this happen?'_ She turned her arms over and over to glance at her wrists in every angle. The cuts, the red skin, and the forming bruises where concealed beneath the dressings. Franny tilted her head to the side as she continued to stare at them. Her eyes squinting as if it would give her a better understanding of how they got there. But she knew only one way they could have gotten wrapped around her skin. _'Did he?'_

"I took care of your wrists while you were still _sleeping_." His voice spoke from beside her.

Franny spun around on the flat grip of her shoes much to quickly, but she maintained her balance. Her hands held out before her body, and when she turned to face him her elbow knocked into the stack of papers. She closed her eyes tightly and tensed her shoulders up. She hoped he wouldn't care that she just knocked all of his papers on the floor. She listened as the papers connected with the concrete in a loud _thunk_. She only opened her eyes again when she heard the last of the crinkling paper stop.

He was standing at the bottom of the staircase with his body facing towards her. The hair piece she removed from her head laid between his foot and the wall. His hands are held out, palms up, with a glass bowl in one hand and a cup in his other. Steam rose up from the liquid that rippled from his descend down the stairs. A silver spoon leaned against the rim of the bowl and halfway buried in the hot liquid. The clear glass cup in his other hand held water with frozen ice cubes floating at the top and gently hitting the edges. Her mouth started to fill with over watering saliva at the sweet aroma that began to fill the room. Her stomach vibrated once again. She had put her mind off the ache that moved inside her abdomen up until the point he brought that down.

She wrapped her arms around her stomach, and shifted her weight onto a hip to give her legs a rest one at a time. "Why?" Franny blurted out. "Why would you take the time to patch me up?"

"Simple." He replied. His body moved forward with each step he took. Growing closer and closer to her. "You inflicted the injury yourself. Pretty well I might add." With every step he made forward, she took a step behind until her back pressed against the brick wall once more. "If it was left uncovered like it was you could have opened the cuts again. Lost more blood and where would be the fun if you were unable to take part in our time together?" He leaned to the side in the slightest so he could place the hot bowl and cold glass of ice water onto the basement table. He straightened back up and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.

Franny looked back and forth from the items he placed on the table and himself. She shifted her weight to her other hip. "I'd rather spend my fun time with my family than with you." Her voice came out in a whisper. He didn't change his facial expression, nor said anything after she did. He stood there looking back at her as she looked at him. Until he smacked his lips and they opened to speak.

"Here." He motioned his hand towards the bowl and cup beside him. Seeming as if he ignored her remark of his _fun time_. "Thought you might like something to eat. I could hear your stomach from across the room."

Franny scowled at him. "No." She dropped her arms from around her stomach and balled them at her sides. "I would like to know who you are and what you want with me."

His eyes lowered dangerously at her, but she found that as she stared into them she was not afraid of them. "You haven't figured it out? I saw you looking through my stuff as I came back down here. Why don't you tell me who you think I am."

He was challenging her, and Franny knew it. He was pulling her deep into a trap by telling her to answer her own questions. "I have a pretty go idea of who you are." Franny's hands were shaking within her skirts. She wanted to allow her entire body the chance to shake, but she had to hold her ground. She had to hide the fear inside. The fear of her situation. "You're him. The one who was hurt in the accident a month ago. Aren't you?" His grin gave her the answer she sought.

"Yes." His grin didn't fade. "Everett Hudson. The man your husband injured and left to hang like a rag." His tone filled with hate halfway through his sentence.

"Cornelius didn't-" Franny tried to defend her husband, but he held up his hand to silence her.

"Don't try that pitiful crap on me sweetheart. It won't work." Everett spat.

Franny felt her heart quicken. "So that's it?" She was going to piece this puzzle of what he wanted with her at that moment in time. "You are out to get revenge against my husband? You want to cause him the same pain that he supposedly caused you? Is that it?!" She couldn't keep the panic from rising in her voice.

"Clever girl." Franny felt insulted by his choice of words. "I want him to feel what I felt. What I had to go through." His feet began to carry him to her. She had nowhere to go. She was pinned between the wall and himself. Franny lowered her gaze from him the closer he got. She focused her brown eyes on the newspaper clip on the floor close to her. She didn't lift her eyes when he got flush up against her.

"Then why am I here?" She asked directly. "If you want to cause the same pain to Cornelius," she hesitated, "then why am I here?" A tiny part of her knew the answer before she finished asking it, but she refused to assume anything. Rather hear it from him himself.

"You are here because," his fingers pushed her head up to look at him from under her chin, "Cornelius will break if anything should happen to you. To see the pained look on his face when he finds out that you are hurt because of him," he brought his face closer to hers, "oh, it will be so sweet."

Franny couldn't help but look at him now. The anger began to boil over the fear inside her veins. "I won't let you destroy him like that!" She had screamed in his face while pushing her body away from the wall.

He released her chin and grabbed her shoulder to pressed her back into the bricks. "Oh, but I've already begun." Her shoulder was freed, but then his fingers shot for her neck. On instinct her eyes snapped closed. Fearful of him chocking her, but he didn't touch her neck. She felt a snap and when she opened her eyes again, Franny saw he held the necklace Cornelius and Wilbur had gotten her. A necklace she remembered getting after her performance. "This, this will start the final phase of my revenge."

He removed himself from against her and walked backwards to where he had stood before. Her necklace held tight in his fist. He looked down to the bowl and cup he brought down again. "Now, enjoy something to eat." He turned his back to her and started for the stairs again.

Franny rushed up to the bowl of steaming soup and grabbed it in her hand. The aroma smelt really good to her, and made her think twice about what she was going to do. But after thinking a full second on why she should do what she wanted, Franny threw the bowl. She sent out a frustrated grunt. She watched as the bowl collided with Everett's upper back. The glass shattering around him, and the hot liquid running down to the floor. Down the skin of his neck. Down his shoulders. He stopped walking and she saw his shoulders tensed at the impact.

"Go to Hell!" She screamed at him with fear and frustration. "I want nothing from you!"

Franny didn't get a chance to say anything further. He had spun around so fast and charged at her that she didn't get a chance to breathe again before he acted. She had seen his fingers curl into his palm. But the next thing she saw was his fist blurring through the air, and connecting to her left cheek. She didn't feel the pain from his knuckles the second it happened. She didn't scream. She didn't shed tears. She did see hundreds of dots flash over and over again before her eyes when she opened them again. She held her left cheek with her left hand. Her brain tried to catch up with what just happened, but it remained slow.

Franny hadn't felt her body drop to the floor, but that is where she was when her vision somewhat cleared from the black dots. Her right arm was supporting her body weight as she held her newly injured cheek. Franny didn't get the opportunity to look up at the man who hit her, again, before she couldn't breathe. A rock, or what felt like a rock, connected hard against her right upper ribs. The air inside her body felt like it was gone. She gasped and coughed over and over trying to get it to return. She felt like she was choking, but nothing was grabbing her neck. The rock hit again. Franny gasped and coughed once more. Harder this time. The air would not enter her lungs that desperately wanted it. Franny felt sick to her stomach. She felt the pain in her ribs. She started to feel the pain in her cheek, but her body seemed to numb down with shock.

She laid there. Her legs curled into her body. Her arms pressed around her chest. Her lungs trying to regain the air they lost. Her gasps and coughs continued. Her heavy eyes shot up to the man standing over her.

"Consider that the punishment for earlier and the stunt you just pulled, sweetheart." His voice sounded out of breath. "If I were you, I wouldn't keep testing my limits. I don't think your body can handle the abuse it will receive for your actions."

She watched as he headed for the staircase once more. His boots stepping on the broken shards of glass from the bowl. He stopped on the third step before he looked at her crumbled body again. "Keep that in mind the next time you decide to act bravely."

With his last words to her, Franny listened to his footsteps up the stairs. She listened and waited for the door to close. Once she heard the click of the lock, she finally let the tears fall from her eyes and down the path they choose when she knew she was alone. Her cheek began to throb worse than when he slapped her. Her side ached in pain from a knife tip every time she breathed. The sobs she finally released didn't help, but Franny didn't seem to care. She made herself in a ball and let her fear escape in each tear that fell.

* * *

 **I am really sorry it took so long to get this up for you guys! I feel horrible, but it kept getting pushed back, and then I realized how long it had been. But it's up now.  
** **I hope you enjoyed it though!  
You guys may have noticed that I added dates to the chapters, I did this so I can keep track of how long it's been and the timeline from jumbling up. It was confusing me even though I know when things happened and what will happen in the future chapters.  
I really hope you guys enjoyed the dark scene I gave you. You finally know what his name is and Franny learns what his motivation is for having her. Fun times. Future scenes might get dark between these two. It's not going to be a fun time for Franny.  
But Review your thoughts, and I will see you in the next chapter. Which you guys will finally see what happened to our Everett Hudson! Flashback!  
Review? Review. Review!**


	30. Anticipating

Anticipating  
 _Unknown: Tuesday, August 25th, 2037_

 **I** slam the silver key into the black doorknob and twist it to the right. I hear the lock _click_ softly and I turn the key back, so I can remove it; shoving it into my right jean pocket. I turn around on my boots and start to head through the laundry room. Away from the basement door.

As I move slowly through the old, dusty room, I flex my right hand in and out of a fist. I can feel the throbbing, but the pain isn't there.

' _No doubt Franny can feel the pain from my touch that was inflicted upon her.'_ I grin.

My hands shove themselves into the pockets of the zip up jacket I still wear. My fingers search inside, and the second they touch cool metal I grab it and pull it free. I dangle the necklace before my eyes, and stop my walk under the doorframe to the next room. A room between the laundry and kitchen.

My pale eyes look down the thin, silver chain until they rest on the pendant at the end. Swaying at the end of the connected chain is the white gold pendant. A Treble Clef. Small, but not too small. Tiny light green jewels are placed over the white gold. A single one at the tip of the Treble Clef. A larger one is placed at the end, and a few smaller ones trail up the Clef. Along the curve is an engraving between the jewels.

' _We Make Music Together'_

I drop my arm and close my fist around the pendant.

' _We'll see how much_ music _you will be making with your wife when you find out she's mine now.'_

I get my feet moving again and pass through the threshold into the next room. The double doors to my right and the single door to my left. The double doors, an unknown room, are still locked. I hadn't found the key to the pad lock that keeps it closed. The door to my left, also locked, but the key has been found. I step before the door, reach my left hand up and run it along the top of the doorframe. I feel the metal key under my fingers. I pull it down then slam it into the deadbolt. I twist it to the left, hear the _click_ , then I turn the knob.

The smell of a garage. The oil. The gas. The paint.

All at once slip into my nose. I welcome it with an inhale and smile.

I pull the door closed as I pass through and step down onto the mat. I flip the latch to the deadbolt then stalk towards the single car in the larger-than-need-be garage. I yank the driver side door open and plop down into the seat. The cushion dips from my weight. I toss the key onto the dashboard and the necklace into the cardboard box in the passenger seat. I press my thumb to the start and stop button that either starts the engine or cuts it off. The set of keys resting in a cup holder. I yank the seatbelt across my chest and hips. I take my foot off the break, press the button to open the garage above my head, and direct the car out into the driveway. Once out, I hit the button and the car began to lift off the ground. I hit the garage button again and as the door lifted down, I move the car through the sky.

Twilight has taken the sky from a bright blue to a deep purple and pink. My fingers grip the wheel with more force than I really need to use, but as my teeth chew on my bottom lip and my thoughts on Cornelius Robinson, I can't stop the force from growing around the smooth texture of the wheel.

He did this.

He has done it all. He took my life from me. He has set himself up to the pain to come. The same pain that he caused to me.

Franny.

Young. Beautiful. Graceful. Innocent.

Franny is the innocent party in all this. The one sitting in the bleachers. The one watching the war between me and her husband. But now, now she is the jewel I use against him. The piece I use to cheat. Make him bend to my demands. Watch him fall apart as the love of his life is taken from him. Seeing the satisfaction of him realizing he can do nothing to save her. And with the package I give to him, the playing field will be under my control. For once, I will be the leader and Cornelius the follower.

* * *

 _Todayland: Monday, July 20_ _th_ _, 2037_

 _I rotate from side to side. The tips of my toes pressing into the navy colored rug beneath my chair. My neck stretched out and resting on the back of the black leather chair. My eyes stare at the ceiling. I focus my mind to count every dot on the tiles as I wait._

'Twenty-Seven. Twenty-Eight.' _I count in my head._

 _As my brain continues to occupy itself, I faintly hear the mumbled conversations of the others in the room with me. The light tapping of a pen. The_ thunk _of one of the chairs rising up and then back down. Repeated._

'Thirty-two. Thirty-three. Thirty-four.' _I continue to count._

 _We were called into this meeting room about ten minutes ago. Of course, that is just my guess at how long it's been. I haven't taken my eyes away from the ceiling since I sat down. I won't take my eyes away to even look at the black metal watch clasped around my wrist to see if I was right. My right index finger taps against my left hand with every count._

 _Finally, the meeting room door opens._

 _My body jerks into an upright position; like I have been sitting professional since I sat in the leather chair. I keep my hands in the lap of my black dress pants. After I fix the collar of my white lab coat. I clear my throat then turn my focus to the two figures stepping through the glass door._

 _The first figure being the head of the company. Cornelius Robinson._

 _The second figure a young inventor. Probably arriving late, and stopped by Cornelius to get a light scolding about punctuality._

 _I let a rumble laugh vibrate my throat. I remember I had gotten one from Cornelius when it was my first year of being an intern inventor at Robinson Industries._

 _I trail Robinson with my eyes as he makes his way to the chair at the head of the table. I briefly look over to see the late inventor take his seat on the opposite side of me, but I return my gaze to Robinson. His hand rakes through his blonde locks before he places a familiar tan file folder onto the top of the long table. He leans his right hand on the top and adjusts his glasses then presses a left finger to the folder._

 _All eyes are on him._

 _He smacks his lips before he begins the meeting. A meeting I now know is about._ "I just got off the phone with the Board before I called you all here." _His blue eyes scan over each of us in turn as his words form._ "They want us to help the hospital out with an issue. They told me to gather my best team and start the plans out immediately."

"What exactly are we helping the hospital out with?" _An inventor asks. I glance to him. His body is relaxed in his chair. Slouched. Left elbow on the table. A pen held between his fingers._

 _Cornelius glances at him too._

"They need us to help create a drug. A safe drug. A drug that will help put patients to sleep before undergoing surgery." _Robinson opens the file folder before him and looks over the pages. Both his hands are now on the table. His body leaning against them._ "One that will reduce the affects and side effects of regular anesthesia. It seems that they are having problems, and can't find the right solution."

 _Everyone in the room looks away from Cornelius and to another person. All of them seem to have the same question in their eyes._ 'What can we possibly do to help? We are inventors. Not medicine.'

 _I keep my mouth pressed together as I observe the state of the room. My finger still taps against my other hand. I watch as majority of the inventors in the room talk in hushed voices about the project on the table. I grow bored with them and move my eyes back to Cornelius. His body has not moved from its position. His face is becoming less relaxed as the hushed voices continue. I watch his lips press together into thin lines. His blonde brows move closer together. His eyes look down his nose._

 _He looks straight at me._

 _Robinson gave a deep sigh. A sigh not heard. I knew he sighed deeply from the expanding of his nose as air is released. He is waiting for me to call order to my team. His best team._

 _With a smack of my lips, I move my hands from my lap. I press my finger pads into the polished wood. I straighten my legs to stand. The black leather chair moves back a few inches. I clear my throat._

 _None of the members of my team notice I stand, nor do they hear my throat clearing. Something I do to get their attention._

 _I clear my throat again. Louder this time. No change._

 _I give a side glance at Cornelius and see his eyes on me. A positive look on his features now. Trust. Belief. He knows I can do this._

 _I have only been in charge of my own team for a few months. I am still learning. Making mistakes. But this is the first time I have done this in front of my boss. My colleague. My best friend from College. Even if I am five years older than he is._

 _I turn my eyes back to my team._

 _I clear my throat as loud as I can, and smack the provided glass mug of coffee on the table. I am surprised it does not break. Coffee does slip out._

 _This gets their attention. Ten pair of eyes all lock to me._

"That is enough." _I glare at them all. All my given intern inventors stare at me in shock. I have never raised my voice at them until this moment._ "You may question your bosses boss, but not in front of me. You are here to learn from me and from Robinson during your first year. Our job. Your job is to help make lives easier. Do what we can." _I straighten my body up and turn to Robinson. A smile on his face._ "Now what do you have in mind? Where do you want us to start?"

* * *

 _Todayland: Tuesday, July 28th, 2037_

"Damn it!" _I shout._

 _I drop the clipboard on the metal table. The many sheets rustle back down after the breeze blows them. I shove my thick fingers through my dark brown hair in frustration. My eyes close and I let a deep sigh through my nose. I tilt my head back and sway on my feet._

"How many times is that now?" _I ask after I calm down. My eyes remain closed. My head tiled back._

 _A paper crinkles._ "That is the twenty-fifth time, Sir."

"I think we should just call it quits." _One of my interns mumbles. But not quite enough._

 _I snap my eyes open and look at the group of four interns assigned to me. Each wearing a white lab coat with_ 'Robinson Industries' _and the logo on the right breast pocket. None of them have their names stitched onto the left side. Not yet. They have to finish their first year intern period and pass the test at the end before they become a full time inventor in whatever area they wish to be. At least two or three out of the total group that come each year don't make it._

 _I scan each one in turn._

"Who said that?" _I ask._

 _A young boy, probably no older than twenty-five, lifts his hand up._ "I did, Sir."

"And pray tell," _I cross my arms over my chest and look upon him, "_ why should we quit?"

 _He hesitates with his answer. He shoves both his hands into the deep pockets of his coat. He clears his throat then speaks._ "Because we are running blind now. I think we need to stop trying to create the drug, and go back to the charts and equations. See if we made a mistake."

 _I glare at him. The other three interns look between us two; worry at how I'll react to him. To their surprise I smile and soften my glare._

"You are absolutely right." _I have taken him by surprise as well. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open._ "I want you all to take the charts and look them over once more. Of course, go enjoy some lunch first, but be back in here within the next hour. The first of you to find the mistake and create the drug successfully will be the one to present it to Robinson." _Each of them reach for a copy of the charts. They begin to scramble out of the door._ "You all can learn from Mr. Gilbert. Stand up and speak out. This is the time to make mistakes and find your way. That is why you are here. Do not forget that."

 _They nod and leave the lab; after they hang their safety goggles back on the rack._

 _I slip mine off as well and place them on the metal table. I lean my body weight on my left hand and use my right to flip through the sheets on my clipboard._

* * *

 _Todayland: Monday, August 3rd, 2037_

 _Mr. Gilbert and I lean at our waists over the metal table to get a closer look into the Erlenmeyer Flask. The flask containing almost 500mL of orange liquid. The Bunsen burner beneath the flask; set at a low heat to keep the liquid warm. I glance over at Mr. Gilbert through my goggles. His fingers hold a pair of forceps. A small white substance is held between the forceps and he brings it up over the flask._

 _He hesitates._

 _I see his eyes lift up across the table. I move my eyes to look in his direction as well. A pair of blue eyes are staring into the flask as well, but look at us when he sees Gilbert stop._

 _I turn my head back to Gilbert and he turns to me. Seeking approval. I give him a nod._

 _With the hesitation gone, Gilbert drops the white substance into the flask. He sets the pair of forceps back onto the table then quickly turns the burn up in heat. We watch as the warm liquid begins to bubble. Small little bubbles begin to rise from the bottom and lift to the top. As the bubbles begin to happen faster, the white substance begins to mix with the orange. As it begins to mix further and further into the flask, the orange starts to turn clear. When the liquid becomes a full boil, the orange liquid is swallowed up into clear. Once there is no trace of the orange liquid, Gilbert switched the knob and the burners flame disappears._

 _Gilbert and I stand up straight._

 _Cornelius straightens up after we did. A smile on his face._

"You've done it." _Cornelius glances at me._ "You did it."

 _I shove my hands into the pockets of my lab coat then motion my head towards Gilbert. His face brightened up._ "Your congratulations should be directed to young Mr. Gilbert." _Cornelius turned his head to smile at the intern._ "He figured out where we went wrong. He did every step."

 _Cornelius walks around the metal table to stand before the intern. He holds his hand out to him a wide smile painted on his lips. I watch as he praises the boy and takes him over to the side for a private discussion. I cannot help the wide grin that my lips twitch into._

 _I turn away from Cornelius and my young intern to start cleaning up the mess upon the table. I notice three things the second I turn around._

 _The sour faces of my other three interns._

 _Two of the three are making their way out of the room._

 _The only female intern I have been assigned is holding an eyedropper filled with dark blue liquid over the flask._

 _I widen my eyes and step forward to stop her from mixing that unknown liquid with the successful drug mixture. But I was too late. Before I could move the dropper, she squeezed the end and a few drops spilled into it. I slap her hand away when I finally reach the table. I watch her race from the room. I see the blue drops float to the bottom of the flask. I feel the heat from the burner._

'Wait,' _My brain replays the turn of the burner knob; the one that turns the flame off,_ 'he turned the flame off yes?'

 _Before I could think anything else. Before I could say anything. Before I feel the heat again, a bright flash of light blinds my eyes. I hear a high pitched noise that causes my ears to ring. I feel a greater source of heat over take my body. The ringing in my ears grows louder. My body feels weightless. The floor under my feet disappears. The walls melt away. I am weightless; falling through the air._

 _My back collides with a hard surface. My head smacks against it soon after; twice. The second time softer than the first._

 _My body aches._

 _No, ache isn't the word. My body feels like fire._

 _I want to scream._

'Am I screaming?' _I try to listen to my voice. I listen hard to hear the familiar scream I've given off before. I hear screams. I hear more than one scream._ _But, I can't tell if one of them is my own._ _I also hear a noise that sounds like a scream but it doesn't._

 _Soon my hearing loses all sound._

* * *

 _Todayland: Wednesday, August 5th, 2037_

'What happened?' _I tried to open my eyes, but they refused to unglue themselves. My mind tells my hands to rub my eyes. I wait to feel them press hard enough that when I open them I'll see dark circles move around. I feel nothing touch my eyes. My arms don't move. I grow frustrated with the lack of control I seem to have over my body. I feel nothing._ 'Is my finger moving?'

 _I try to relax my body, but I can't feel if it does it or not._

"Sir?" _I hear the sudden voice speak not too far from me._

'Are they talking to me?' _I wonder inside my head._ 'I hope they know I most likely won't answer. I don't seem to have any control of my body.'

 _A clicking echo rotates around my ears._ 'Heels?'

"Excuse me?" _A female voice becomes clear._

 _The sound of someone waking up beside me, and pushing their way out of a chair._

"Doctor!" _Their voice sounded shocked and relieved with one word._ "Will he be okay?"

 _The soft exhale of breath filled the silence that creeped along._ 'What the hell is going on? Are they talking about me?'

"It is hard for me to say. The incident damaged his lungs. The explosion pushed against his chest and caused his rib cage to break in several places. We were able to stop the bleeding into his chest cavity."

'WHAT?!' _My mind screams._ 'Bleeding in my chest cavity? Broken ribs?' _My thoughts circle around for an answer. A memory of what caused me to become so broken. Nothing opens my lost confusion._

"Will he ever wake up?" _The second voice asks. A familiar voice. I know that voice, but the face doesn't show._

"I don't know the answer to that." _The crinkle of paper fills the air for a few seconds after she stopped talking._ "Only he knows if he will wake up."

* * *

 _Todayland: Monday, August 17th, 2037_

"What do you mean?!" _My voice screams louder. My left cheek flaring up in heat._

 _I watch Robinson close his eyes and shakes his head with a sigh. He pushes his body up from the chair behind his desk. Robinson leans his weight on both his fists against the polished desk top. His unruly hair moves with the slight shake of his head._ "Everett. This isn't an easy thing for me to say to a dear friend-"

"Dear friend?!" _I push myself from the chair across from his desk and move to walk around the open space._ "You're telling me that saying I'm being let go isn't easy, but yet here you are telling me and you seem to have no problem with saying it."

"This isn't my choice. I am following orders from the Board." _Cornelius looks up at me. A hard look in his eyes, but I also see the tiniest hint of hurt._ "I don't want to let you go, but the Board is not letting up on the accident that happened. My hands are tied here Hudson! Someone has to go down for this!"

 _Of all the years I have known Robinson, he has never raised his voice. Never lost his temper. Never been so…hard on someone. But here he is now. I am shocked and betrayed by the fact my boss, my colleague, the man who is supposed to be my best friend, my person, the person I go to for almost everything, is becoming so cold to me in this moment. I freeze in the spot my feet are in, and glare at him._

"Someone? Someone has to go down for this?! And that person has to be me?! I didn't cause the accident!"

"Yes Hudson," _he stands straight from his leaning position,_ "that person has to be you!" _Robinson practically screams at me. His brows lower dangerously. His lips press into a thin line. With his anger level rising, the heat in his cheeks begins to rise as well._ "I told you from the very beginning of the new year, the day I assigned you those interns, that their mistakes are on you. What they do reflects on you! Every slip up. Every mistake!"

 _My slam my hand flat onto the desk top._ "So, I am being fired because an intern decided to blow us up? Blow me up?!"

"YES!" _Cornelius' scream bounces off the glass walls._ "Look," _Cornelius places his hand on his forehead and messages it,_ "I don't want to let you go Hudson. You are my best inventor. You have so many bright ideas and such a bright mind. You always have. Even in school. I don't wanna see you leave, but my hands are tied to tight to fight the Board."

 _My hand sweeps across his dark wood desk. Pens, pencils, markers, and highlighters all clutter to the carpet. Papers scatter themselves around my feet. The two picture frames near the edge_ clunk _to the floor. I hear the crack of glass. My angry eyes snap to them._

 _The first picture frame holds a picture of Cornelius and his son, Wilbur. Cornelius stands halfway behind him; his hand on his son's dark hair. Seeming to ruffle it. Wilbur has his chest puffed up, arms held up and bent at the elbow. A goofy smile on his lips._

 _The second picture frame held one of Cornelius and his wife, Francesca. Neither of them looked at the camera. Both are looking at each other. The setting sun behind their bodies and the sky a deep pink, purple, and orange. Cornelius wearing a black suit with a bow-tie undone. Francesca wearing a white dress with a long train of blue going out in a 'V'. Her vail blowing in the breeze along with her black, curled hair. Their smiles wide. Cornelius held his wife in a little dip. A hand clasped around one of hers and his other around the small of her back. A wedding photo. The glass cracked._

 _All the anger I feel disappears the second I lay eyes on her. Of course, I have seen his wife before. Many times at dinner parties held here. Some she was just his girlfriend, others his fiancée, and then every other, his wife. She is truly a vision to any man._

 _With my anger hidden inside, deep inside, I turn back to Robinson. His face unchanged._

"I apologize for that. I didn't mean to go that far."

"I understand."

"I do not like this outcome, but there is nothing more you or me can do about it. I thank you, truly, for this chance to learn under you Robinson. Hope to see you around? Still my best friend, I expect dinner invitations."

 _He nods his head. The anger in himself gone as well._

 _I turn on my heel and walk out of the room. Out of the Building. Out of my job._

* * *

 _Todayland: Wednesday, August 26th, 2037_

Nearly five hours.

I have been sitting in this car for nearly five hours. Some of that time sitting in the car; parked. My head filled with those painful memories, and I cannot push them back any longer. I think if my fingers grip the wheel any tighter it will break, but I cannot seem to loosen my grip.

My eyes snap to the clock on the dashboard. It is a little past midnight.

I move the car through the city of Todayland. Every building giving light to the sky. A nearly empty sky.

I glance at the package in the passenger seat.

I return forward and speed the car up to get to my destination faster. Nearly there.

Before long the large home of the Robinsons comes clear into view. I flick the headlights off, and land the car near the hedges that mark the entrance of the property. With a push of a button the car dies and I grab the box. I check the items I've put inside, grab the clear packing tape, and seal it shut once I know everything is inside. With the package in my hand, I open the door, shut it and make my way across the yard.

I lightly jog around bushes. Duck under low branches of trees. Step over roots poking from the ground. I keep my eyes wandering around the house; searching for any signs of life within the dark home. I inch closer and closer to the front porch.

When I finally walk up the few steps, I look around the yard, and then place the box in front of the doors. Cornelius' name clearly written on the top.

With a satisfied smile, I race away from the home. I race across the yard. Nearly tripping over the roots. Brushes of tree leaves over my face. Jumping over small bushes. I jump into the driver's seat of the car, and close the door behind me. I start the car up. Before I take off, I look at the Robinson mansion one last time.

The anticipating wait for him to get the package takes over my body.

* * *

 **I am very sorry my dear readers, my dear reviewers, that it has taken me a little over a month to update. Making you wait so long. Time has just slipped away. Trips, work, and my birthday coming up in three days.  
But anyway, I hope you enjoyed this update chapter. A deeper look into what happened and why his anger is directed to Cornelius.**  
 **Please continue to Read and Review.**  
 **Share with me your thoughts! I enjoy to know what you think.**  
 **You guys are what keeps me writing. Keeps my hope alive that I am good enough to write stories or books.**


	31. Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One  
Wilbur

 _Todayland: Wednesday, August 26_ _th_ _, 2037_

 **T** he blared sound of a horn vibrated his eardrum.

His brown eyes snapped open within a second and his body flew from the mattress. His arms and legs flapped around like a birds wing while he fell to the floor; failed attempt to grab something to stop his descend. His stomach connected with the soft, plush carpet of navy blue. His legs bent like a frogs on either side of his body. His right arm crushed under his chest and his left bent at the elbow; palm flat against the carpet. Wilbur grunted five seconds after his fall was done.

"Time for school, Wilbur!" The raspy voice of his grandpa filled his ringed ears after the horn became quiet.

Wilbur lifted his head up from the carpet, which needed to be vacuumed, to look at the shoes his grandpa wore. The funky oldie style with the point and the scrunched up red socks he chose to wear.

"Come on little fella!" His grandpa urged. "You have thirty minutes before you have to be out the door!" Then grandpa Bud headed down the levitation platform. Wilbur listened to his heavy footsteps on the first story and through his bedroom door. He listened to the sound change from the wood to the marble. He heard the _click_ of the latch and let his chin drop to the carpet. He groaned again.

' _Can't I have_ one _normal day?!'_ Wilbur exasperated in his head.

With that thought, Wilbur got himself off the floor and to the first story of his bedroom. He yawned with a stretch before he slipped a pair of dark gray skinny jeans up his chicken legs and snug around his hips. Because his legs were so scrawny the jeans are looser than on other people. He clasped the button, zipped them up, and grabbed a black belt from the top of his dresser. He looped the belt through. He grabbed a lighter gray shirt with a white nerdy glasses graphic across the chest. He slipped his arms through a long sleeved, deep blue and white stripped flannel button up. He left it unbuttoned. He quickly grabbed a pair of white socks, left the drawers opened, and headed out of his room; closed the door behind him.

He hopped along the hall as he tried to pull his socks over his bare feet; too impatient to wait and put them on in the front room. Just as he rounded the staircase, he finally pulled his right sock on. He slid into the kitchen, past his grandma, and began to make himself a bowl of cereal. He was going to pour the Trix nearly to the rim of the bowl until his grandma told him to stop. Said _'that is too much, Wilbur'_. He left the box on the counter, opened the fridge, poured the milk into his cereal, closed the fridge door, and grabbed a large spoon. He shoved the first spoonful into his mouth and chewed. He walked over to his grandma and leaned over her to get a look at what she was doing.

"What is this?" Wilbur asked with his mouth full of cereal. Drops of milk fell onto a cheese slice.

Lucille pushed Wilbur's drippy mouth away from the food. "Your lunch." She responded. "Now, go sit down and stop dripping your breakfast all over it."

Wilbur did as she said and sat in an island stool. He continued to shove spoonful after spoonful into his mouth. It wasn't long before he finished his cereal. He drank the milk from the bowl as he made his way to the sink. He dropped the empty bowl and his spoon into the deep sink then made his way to the bathroom down his hall. He skated along the marble floor in his white socks. He halted before the white door, the first to his left, and entered. He stepped up to the single sink in the middle of a long countertop. A countertop crowded with all his stuff. Dirty clothing, candy wrappers, and empty containers.

He yanked the red electric toothbrush from the holder and brushed his teeth. Once he put toothpaste along the bristles. He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet while he brushed every inch of his white teeth. He could taste the mixed flavors of his minty toothpaste and the cereal on his tongue. After Wilbur scrubbed his tongue he rinsed his brush then his mouth. He spit into the sink twice and wiped his mouth on a cloth. He quickly checked his hair in the mirror, fluffed his cowlick with his finger and raced back into the family room.

His black convers were in the same place he put them in last night. Under the coffee table. He dove under the white, polished table to grab them. He slipped his feet into each one without untying them. Wilbur fixed the heel that folded over when he slipped his foot in and pulled the tongue flap on both before he began to gather all his books and papers off the coffee table top. He stuffed his books into his messenger bag first. Then, put all his homework papers into the correct binders. He told himself once he got to his locker he would put them in nicer, but for now he just stuffed them into the pockets. After, Wilbur put his three binders into his bag. Wilbur flipped the flap of his bag and threw it over his head; the strap across his chest.

"Morning Wilbur." He turned to see his father coming down the stairs. Dressed in his familiar attire. Long sleeve, button up shirt, a vest pulled over, and a tie around his neck. His dress pants wrinkle free and his shoes shiny. The only thing Wilbur saw missing was the white lab coat. "Have you seen your mother yet this morning?"

Wilbur gave a wave this his dad. "Morning, and I haven't. Don't think she's arrived home yet." His father gave him a nod. "I'm off to school. I'll see you when you come home at dinner." Wilbur started to head for the front doors.

"Actually, I'll see you when you come home. I'm not heading into the office today." He responded. "Going to wait for your mother."

Wilbur didn't turn to look at his dad, but simply waved his hand above his head as Wilbur's way of saying _'okay'_. Before he could pass through the threshold of the front door, Lucille stopped him to hand over his lunch. Wilbur took it from her and smiled. He couldn't wait for his mom to come home today. Better home lunches. Wilbur stuffed the brown sack in his bag and walked out the door.

He didn't even get the chance to close the door behind him before he was on the ground. His leg smacked against something hard. His body flew forward. At the last second, Wilbur twisted his body so his backside would hit. His bottom connected with the concrete. His left leg rested on the object he tripped over. His right bent at the knee with his foot on the ground.

"Ouch!"

Wilbur scrambled to his knees to get a look at what he tripped over. He comes to face a brown package. He tilted his head to the side and read the information on the top.

"You okay, Wilbur?" He heard his father call from inside the house.

Wilbur pushed himself up from the ground. Brushed his clothing off and fixed his shirts. He bent over to pick the box up. To his surprise it was extremely light, but weight added when something moved around as he lifted it.

"Yeah," Wilbur called back, "just tripped over a package." Cornelius appeared in the doorway. "It's for you. Order something?"

His dad gave a confused look as Wilbur handed him the box. "I don't remember if I did or not." Cornelius looked at his watch then back to him. "You better get going. You've got fifteen minutes to get to school."

Wilbur gasped. He reached for his fallen bag, raced down the steps and across the yard.

Wilbur followed along the sidewalk towards the city. He held the strap to his bag, not bothered to put it back on his shoulder as he moved through the growing crowd of people. He maneuvered through the people like a silk ribbon slipping from your fingers. He did his best to not push or shove them as he raced down the sidewalk. Wilbur switched his phone on to see the time. He had less than ten minutes to get to his homeroom class. The phone shoved back inside his jean pocket, Wilbur moved his legs faster.

His school building came into sight. It wasn't huge like the high school was, but it was fairly large. The pressure washed red bricks bright under the rays of sunshine that finally decided to visit Todayland. The sickly green awnings that covered over the car pick-up and the walkways all around the school grounds always made Wilbur wanna stick his tongue out. As he finished racing through the parking lot and began down the walkway to the front doors, Wilbur noticed the landscapers working in the front garden to his right. He didn't stop to say _'hey'_ like he normally would, he passed by them and burst through the front doors.

The front lobby of his school was nearly deserted of students. The front office to his right and the main hall to his left. Ahead of him was the two-hundred hall that held the seventh grade classes. Wilbur swung the strap to his bag over his head and lifted his right foot to rest on the long bench to his left. He re-tied his laces that came undone sometime in his rush. With his shoe done again and his bag across his chest, Wilbur headed down the main hall. He needed to get to homeroom before the final bell rang. A bell that would ring in two minutes. He picked up the pace of his stride.

Wilbur walked, but fast paced, down the main hall to the end where a pair of doors would take him outside to a breezeway. A rush of chilled air wrapped him in a hug once he stepped outside, and Wilbur wished he had grabbed a jacket before leaving the house. His long sleeved flannel was thin in material and didn't prevent the goosebumps from his arms. The sunshine bright in his eyes, Wilbur nearly ran across the garden to his right. His homeroom portable was to the left of the one the sidewalk ended too. He jogged up the metal ramp and swung the heavy door open. The bell rang before the door could close all the way behind him.

Wilbur sighed in relief. The third day of school and he was nearly tardy.

He glanced around the room. Nearly every desk was taken by a student. A few empty; including his own. Caleb was waving at him from his desk. A desk that was right next to Wilbur's. He smiled and sunk into the metal chair with his school bag still strapped across this chest. He greeted his new friend with a smile and _'Good Morning'_.

Neither of the two boys got to talk long in their homeroom period because the bell rang shortly after the morning announcements and they went their separate ways to first period. He pushed his way through the crowd of students to the three hundred hall. A hall that held four out of seven of his classes. He arrived through the door of his Language Art's class, sat in the seat he was given and waiting for the day to begin.

Through the entire 40 minutes of his first class, Wilbur tapped his pencil against the polished top of his desk. He didn't really pay attention to anything his teacher had to say. He put the pieces together that they were about to read a book as a class. The information on the board gave that away when he was headed out to his next class.

His bag bounced against his leg while he walked to his locker. He switched his books and binders out then got to his next class within the three minute between time. In Wilbur's opinion they could use about five minutes between classes. Three minutes wasn't enough time to get to your locker or even go to the bathroom before the tardy bell rang. Wilbur didn't have much of a problem through. He figured out which books to grab his first go around then his second, and between which periods he could use the restroom.

Wilbur didn't pay much attention in his Science class either. His mind drifted off and his pencil doodled all over his paper of science notes before him. His mood lowered into boredom. His brown eyes drifted to anything but the lesson being taught. What made his mood switch from boredom to irritation was his teacher called on him when he didn't even raise his hand, and he had the wrong answer. His classmates snickered at him. His face turned red from humiliation.

That's how most of Wilbur's classes went for the rest of the morning. He barely paid attention to his lessons. He made sure to get the homework assignments of course, but he drifted from the tones of his teachers. His reading teachers voice faded to a murmur in the background of his ears. He wasn't positive about what she was saying, but he figured it wasn't too important. She neither called on a student nor made them take notes, which was good for Wilbur, for his mind couldn't shake off the feeling of something changing.

Physical Education was another period of nothing being done. Being the third day of school, they weren't give much to do. Free to play around with basketballs, jump ropes, or knock a tennis ball back and forth with a racket. Of course everyone still had to dress out otherwise points off their grade would be taken. Wilbur dressed out, but he chose to lay his back against the metal bleachers. His legs on either side while he tossed a tennis ball up into the air and then caught it. His left arm dangled over his forehead to block the sunlight from his eyes. Caleb was sitting a seat above him. His legs apart, feet propped up and his elbows rested on his knees with his fingers clasped together.

"You know," Caleb spoke after a long silence, "we aren't supposed to just sit here."

Wilbur caught the yellow tennis ball then turned his eyes to look toward his friend. His arm blocked the rays of sun, but he still had to squint from the brightness. "Technically, I'm not sitting here." Wilbur spoke to Caleb for the first time since Homeroom that day. His voice rough and low in tone from not saying a word except once before then. "I'm laying here," he spoke cheekily, "and I'm catching a tennis ball. I'm participating in a sport. You're the one sitting there."

"Tossing a tennis ball in the air a few feet then catching it isn't a sport Wilbur." Caleb gave a side smile with a roll of his eyes.

Wilbur didn't reply with a smartly remark like he is known to do, but only a _'humph'_.

Caleb bent over Wilbur so they were both staring into each other's eyes. "You seem distracted today, Wilbur." He pointed out.

He only shrugged his shoulders, and turned back to continue tossing the ball into the air.

"Something happen?"

Wilbur huffed and sat up straight. Caleb moved his head to avoid a collision with Wilbur's forehead. "Nah, nothing happened. Just," Wilbur paused to gather his thoughts correctly, "I feel like something is going to change." He chucked the tennis ball. "I haven't quite figured out if it will be a good change or a bad change."

Caleb's face was twisted into a smirk on the break of laughter when Wilbur looked over at him. "This a little feeling inside?" Caleb started to laugh. "You a physic now?!" His laughter burst from his mouth.

Wilbur shoved Caleb's arm in a playful way. "Haha, no." Wilbur smiled. "Just a feeling." Wilbur fell back against the bleachers and draped his arm over his eyes that time. He let his right hand dangle over the edge; his fingers barely touched the step for your feet. "What are you doing after school?"

"Homework then," Caleb paused, "nothing, I guess."

"Wanna come over after school?" Wilbur asked. "We can do homework together then play some chargeball?"

Caleb was quiet after Wilbur spoke. After the silence continued, Wilbur lifted his arm up from his left eye to peek at his friend. "Well?"

"…I've never been to your house before." Caleb stuttered.

"I know you haven't." Wilbur spoke. "I haven't asked until now. Want to?"

At that moment, Wilbur heard all the other students come through the gate around the locker room building. He sat up and watched them enter either the boys or the girls. Wilbur made his way over to the door of the boy's locker room with Caleb behind him. He opened his square locker after the lock was opened. Wilbur looked around behind him at the other boys changing from their gym clothes to their school clothes. He turned back around, discarded his gym clothing, and quickly pulled his others on.

"Yeah, I'd love to come over after school." Wilbur whipped his head up to look at Caleb. "I'll text my dad and let him know." He was given a smile.

Wilbur smiled with a nod.

The bell for the end of the class rang just as Wilbur pulled his last shoe on. He made his way towards the cafeteria. All thoughts of something changing left his mind. He ate his lunch at a table with other people who ignored him, which he was fine with. He ate his lunch, thankful that this is the last of his grandma's making. When the bell rang, Wilbur tossed the bag into the garbage, stuffed the ice pack into his school bag and headed for his math class. He stopped for the restrooms along the way. He had already switched his books out for the last three classes before P.E.

Wilbur sat in class, but he actually paid attention to his teacher. He worked each problem out on the board like every day. He turned the paper into the basket at the teacher's desk then waited for the actual lesson to begin. When it did begin, his focus was on the book. The 40 minutes passed by faster than he thought it would. When the bell rang, everyone collected their belongings and exited through the door. Wilbur stuffed his things into the bag and got up. Caleb walked beside him.

"Wilbur," their teacher called, "can you stay a moment?"

Caleb and Wilbur looked at each other before he watched Caleb leave the room.

Mr. Rice finished clearing the board before his attention went to Wilbur, who was standing awkward in the front of the room.

"Am I in trouble?" Wilbur blurted out. "Did I do something?" Wilbur tensed his shoulders.

Mr. Rice was shocked by his outburst, but turned into a soft smile. "No, of course not."

Wilbur relaxed.

"I just wanted to show you all your morning problems and the practice test I gave the first day of school." Wilbur followed his teacher to his desk and watched as he flipped through a pile of papers before he pulled out three sheets. One from the beginning of class. He laid the papers out for Wilbur to see them. "As you can see from the grades, I am very impressed."

On each page, a red number was circled. Wilbur was surprised to see none of the grades were below ninety.

"Have you done Algebra before?" His teacher asked.

Wilbur shook his head. "Math always came easy to me. I could figure the problems out easy." He shrugged.

"Well Wilbur, I am very impressed. I look forward to seeing how you improve and grow in this class." Mr. Rice held up a small slip of paper to him. "Here is a pass for your next class."

Wilbur took the paper. "Thanks. I look forward to learning." With a smile, Wilbur left the room.

For the duration of his Study Hall period, which was an empty class until they could fill it for him, Wilbur did something he didn't normally do. He read. From the moment he sat down in a provided comfy chair and the bell ringing, Wilbur read a book he randomly pulled from the Fiction section. Once that bell rang, he put the book back on the shelf then took off for his last class.

Wilbur enjoyed his History class more than any class he had. He listened and wrote down the notes his teacher told him too. Watched the slides change from one to another event. Questions were asked after each section of slides. Different students were asked to answer the questions, and Wilbur was one of them. Of course, that being his best subject he answered right for each one he was called on.

Once the bell rang, Wilbur turned to Caleb.

"What did your dad say?"

Caleb stood from his desk and swung his bag on his shoulder. "My dad is cool with it, as long as I'm home for dinner."

"Sweet!" Wilbur jumped up from his desk. His bag resting on his shoulder.

After the boys went to their lockers, grabbed the books and binders they needed for their homework, they met back up in front of the school building. With smiles and conversation between them, both boys made their way through the city. The sidewalk was mostly clear the whole way.

Wilbur was in the middle of a funny story about Carl and himself, when Caleb grabbed his upper arm rather forcefully. This caused Wilbur to stop mid-story and look up at Caleb.

"Wilbur," Caleb spoke. His head turned forward.

"What?" Wilbur asked with a jerk of his arm to free it. Caleb didn't let go. "What is it?"

Wilbur snapped his head forward when Caleb didn't look at him. Wilbur stopped trying to pull his arm free, and just stood there staring at his home with Caleb. What he saw made his eyes widen and his mouth open. In front of his house where a number of vehicles. Each vehicle had flashes of light on top. Red and blue.

' _Again, just_ one normal _day!'_ Wilbur shouted inside his head before he raced towards his home.

* * *

 **Have a task: What all do you think Everett put inside the box? Leave your answers! I am interested to see what you think. May even use some of your ideas. ;)  
Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I had fun writing it, but then again I always have fun writing.  
Continue to read! Review!**


	32. Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two  
Cornelius

 _Todayland: Wednesday, August 26th, 2037_

 **H** e held the package by the bottom with both his hands as he stood on the porch to watch his son race across the yard.

With a shake of his head and a smile, Cornelius turned his body to make his way back inside. He used one of his feet to kick the front door closed then made his way over to an entryway table against the wall. He placed the box, which was light, onto the glass top. He heard whatever was inside move when he put it down, but Cornelius didn't open it nor looked to see who sent it. He simply left it on the table and walked back into the family room; where his mother was sat on a couch. A book in hand.

Cornelius started to make his way down the right hall. He stopped in his tracks and twisted to face his mother. "Hey mom," he spoke, "when you see Franny come home, can you let her know to come meet me in my lab?"

Lucille looked up from the book she held and smiled up at him. "I will pass on the message to her, dear." She gave a nod with her answer then went back to reading the book she held.

Cornelius looked around the large family room, through the kitchen and then the living room, a room that hardly got any attention, to see where his father could be. He wasn't in any of the rooms he looked into, but he suddenly remembered that his father took the job of walking Buster every morning and evening. Cornelius knew that would take about two to three hours for his father enjoyed sitting in the park.

When he reached the end of the hall, he opened the door to his lab and made his way up the three sets of small stairs. The large doom window came into view of his observatory. The bright morning sun's rays slipped through the thick glass and fell into the large room; warmth flooded around. Cornelius worked his way around the many inventions he had created over the years to his desk in the corner. A desk well hidden by the large machines and easy to lose your way if you don't know the right turns to take.

Cornelius moved the chair he used to sit before his desk and leaned against the wood. The blueprints he left there last Friday lay opened upon the cluttered desk. His eyes scanned every problem. Every picture. Every inch of his blueprint. The answer to his failure was staring him right in the face. He knew it was. He just needed to find it. His eyes were fresh and new. He hadn't looked at it since Friday. He would find the mistake.

He moved his finger along the written equations to help his eyes focus, but each time he tried to keep it on his task his attentions would turn from his work to his wife.

Franny.

He used his hands to push himself from the desk. Back into a standing position. Cornelius moved to stand in the middle of his work area and he slipped one of his hands into his pants pocket. His fingers from his free hand slip past several strands of blonde hair.

Franny.

Cornelius tilted his head back so his eyes stared at the nearly clear sky. His focus wiped completely from his project as his blue eyes trailed the clouds that moved along. His loving wife, who was going to walk up those steps at any time, stole his focus. He drifted off to picture her eyes. Deep chocolate pools that seemed to sway him in her direction. The feel of her soft lips against his from the many times he had kissed her made his tingle with the memories. The way her hips moved when she walked popped through his mind. Cornelius pictured every inch of Franny in his mind, and loved what he saw. She was to come home, and he would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't nervous.

Cornelius was a jumble of nerves.

Really, it had only been three days since he had seen let alone heard from her, but the way his body acted at that moment, it felt like talking to her for the first time all over again. His brain pictured every possible way to greet her when his eyes would rest upon her again. He wondered if a simple prolonged hug would be the best go around, but he knew with her wrapped in his arms like that he would want to kiss her. He always wanted to kiss her. Should he do that as well?

His brain flashed with new possible ways, and he liked every single one he came up with. Some were a bit extreme, he knew that, but nothing could ever be enough for her. Cornelius pictured the last option with a smile. Sweep her off her feet the second she appeared and pour every ounce of love he had for her. To show her through his touch instead of just his words, which he normally did each time they had their alone time together.

' _With my demanding job lately it has been awhile since she received the attention she deserved.'_ He thought his observation.

He stayed standing in that spot for what seemed like only minutes, but when he finally pulled his attention from the sky to the clock, he realized that he had been in his lab for hours. It was already near two o'clock in the afternoon. His thick, bushy brows lowered behind the rim of his glasses in confusion.

' _Had I been so deep in thought that I didn't see her come up here?'_ Cornelius questioned himself. He wouldn't be too surprised if that was the case for it wouldn't be the first time, nor end up being the last time.

He searched inside his pants pocket for his phone and removed both hands when he pulled it free. He turned the lock screen on. Much to his disappointment there was no notification from Franny. No call. No voicemail. No text. The screen turned dark in his grip. His feet carried him through the maze of inventions then down the sets of stairs. He rushed down the hall with a quick stride. Phone tight in his grip. He rounded the staircase into the family room. It was empty now. The book his mother was reading that morning laid on the coffee table.

He sent his eyes around the open concept room. The living room was empty, but that room barely got used. The kitchen on the other side of the room, however, was occupied. His mother and father both took up space inside the large room. He made his way over to them. Both sat in an island stool.

"Hey mom," he made his presence known, "has Franny come home? Did you pass on my message? I didn't see her come up into the lab, but we all know how I get when I go into deep thought. Is she in her music lounge?" He asked all those questions and sentences rather quickly, he had to take a deep breath in as he made his way down the left hall; towards his wife's favorite room.

"She's not here, Cornelius." Lucille had whipped her head toward him, and reached her hand out to stop him.

He halted like a statue. He froze like that briefly then stumbled on his feet when he faced his mother again. "What?!" He more breathed his word than spoke, but he was still heard by her.

"Franny isn't home." Lucille spoke quietly.

Bud placed a hand on Lucille's shoulder. He saw the shocked face Cornelius was sure was on his face. "What time did she say she was going to be home?"

Cornelius cleared his face of shock before he answered. "She told me that she would be home this morning."

"It's nearing two in the afternoon, son." Bud said cautiously. "Has she spoken to you since the last time? Let you know she was going to get home late? Where she is?"

"No," he brought is phone up to his face, "she hasn't." Cornelius unlocked his phone with his thumb print. He scrolled through his contacts until his wife's came into view. He pressed her name, then the phone button. He put the device to his ear. A hand on his hip. The phone call went straight to voicemail and his features morphed into worry. After her voice cut off from the message and the beep sounded, Cornelius walked in a pace as he spoke to the voicemail. "Hey honey. The last time I had heard from you was Monday morning. You told me that you would be home this morning. Where are you? I'm starting to worry because I haven't heard a word since then and you aren't home. The second you get this, please, call me. Put my mind at ease that everything is alright." He ended the call and dropped his phone onto the coffee table in the family room; where he ended up while pacing.

Both his nervous hands swept through his blonde hair in frustration. When they refused to leave he gripped several strands in his fingers. He felt his palms damp with sweat.

"No answer?" Lucille asked from behind him.

He turned his head to look at his parents. Both standing side by side behind him; concern painted on their wrinkled faces. Cornelius removed his hands from his hair before he started to pull strands out. He replaced them on his hips. "Nothing. It went straight to voicemail. I don't get it." His voice started to rise in volume and panic. "This isn't like Franny. She doesn't just disappear like this. This isn't like Franny. She has always answered her phone. Always lets me know where she is. Let's me know if she is running behind."

The panic in his voice masked over his usual tone, and for the moment of his hysteria he didn't recognize his own tone of voice. His fingers rubbed his face to strip the panic from himself, but it did little to sooth him.

"Cornelius?" Bud's voice hesitant. "Who's the package for?"

Unprepared by his question, Cornelius removed his hands from his face to look at his elderly father. Bud was no longer standing by Lucille, nor looking at him. Bud had made his way to the arch between the family and entry hall. His thin, boney finger was pointed to the cardboard box Cornelius had left on the table.

"I saw it when I came back from walking Buster this morning." Bud dropped his finger.

Cornelius shoved a hand in his pocket and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. He hung his head slightly. "The package is for me." He mumbled. Neither his parents heard his answer.

"Is it for you? You order something for a new idea, son?" His father questioned.

Cornelius snapped his head up. His hand removed from his nose. His other freed from his pocket. The eyes that were just crushed closed focused on the box that was at the door this morning. The box his son, Wilbur had tripped over. His feet carried him toward his father.

"It's for me, but I didn't order anything." He finally answered before he slipped past Bud and over to the box.

His fingers grip the cardboard and lifted it from the table. The light weight of it surprised him once again. He carried the box into the family room, sat himself on the couch, and placed the box back down on the coffee table in front of him. He picked at the tape on one of the sides with his nail until he had lifted it up enough for him to grasp and pull. He ripped the tape across the top and free from the box by the opposite side he started. He balled the thick tape up and let it drop to the floor; he would clean it up later. His palms still damp with nervous sweat, Cornelius lifted up each flap one by one. The two larger, then the two smaller. Inside the smallish box was a dark file folder. A mix between tan and orange. Cornelius grabbed the thicker packet from the box. He held it up and checked to see if anything else was inside. The box was empty. He dropped the cardboard to the floor near the tape he balled up.

"Who is it from?" His mother asked from the couch across from him.

Cornelius looked over the folder, but saw no writing. He glanced at the box to find a return address, but it only showed his own address. "It doesn't say." He answered.

She gave a nod. Both Lucille and Bud sat side by side; watched Cornelius.

Cornelius hesitated. "Do you think it could be from Franny?"

Lucille and Bud looked at each other then looked at him again. "It could be, Cornelius." His mother answered with dread.

Cornelius turned the packet over to the thread that was looped around the seal. He made quick work with the thin piece of string until it was free of the seal. He opened the folded flap and saw a peek of white the instant he lifted it. He slid the white piece of paper from the packet, and held it between his fingers. He set the folder down on the table.

Cornelius knew from the moment he saw the handwriting it wasn't from Franny.

His blue eyes read along the lines of words written in rushed but neat penmanship. He knew there were words. He saw them clearly as he would any other piece of writing, but his brain would not believe what they were saying. He could not actually believe these were the words he was reading. His fingers gripped onto the piece of paper tighter. It started to wrinkle under the pressure. He read over each word one by one. As slowly as he could manage.

 _Cornelius,_

 _I'm positive that by now you have realized something is amiss. The deep feeling inside yourself that sends warning bells off? I surely hope so. I mean, I would feel it if my loved one suddenly disappeared. No contact for several days. So tragic._

 _Yes, Franny won't be coming home today like you expected her to. But of course, I was the one to send that last message. Oh, don't fret, she is perfectly safe. Well, as safe as she makes herself. She has fire in her. I like that, but it causes consequences. She will remain alive…for now, so long as you wish it. Just in case you don't believe your wife is missing look inside the folder. You will find the proof you desire. I will wait._

Cornelius slapped the paper down on the coffee table with a _smack_. He grabbed the folder, ripping a part of it in his hast, to turn it upside down. Two items fell from the inside. Another, smaller envelope fell out along with a necklace. His thick fingers grabbed the necklace first. He held it before his face with a shaken hand. He saw the Treble Chief pendant sway.

It was Franny's necklace.

' _The necklace Wilbur and I got her for her performance.'_

He held the necklace between his fingers while he reached for the envelope. What he pulled out caused his face to pale. Turn whiter than a pearl. His breath stopped. His eyes didn't blink. His body didn't move. Cornelius turned into a statue.

He held a single picture of his wife. Of Franny.

What he saw in the picture only made him pale further. Most of the picture was dark. Only light was in the center. Highlighting is wife. She was sat in an old looking chair. Her arms wrapped around the back rest. Her legs were spread out far enough so her ankles could be tied to the legs of the chair. The white flowing dress she wore for the performance still hugged her body, but was spotted with dirt. The long, ebony hair that she had curled for the event was matted together and frizzed; no longer curled but waved.

Cornelius held the necklace and the single picture in the same hand. He removed them from his sight and picked the letter back up.

 _Believe me now? Believe the seriousness of the situation?_

 _Your wife happened to get in the way of our battle field. I would much rather it be you, but seeing as how you made it so easy to catch her I couldn't resist. If I had Francesca on my arm I wouldn't leave her to walk alone. Trust me when I say I don't wanna hurt your wife, but I've been watching you for a long time Cornelius. I know that if anything were to happen to your love it would destroy you. Both on the outside and on the inside. Although that is my goal. To destroy you. Just like you destroyed me. You took away everything, and now I will take away everything from you. It just so happens everything to you is Francesca._

 _You can still save her from your mistakes. But you better race against time Cornelius. I don't know how long she'll be able to handle our time together._

That was the end of the letter, but Cornelius couldn't take his eyes away from the writing. He didn't want to believe them. He wanted to believe this was all some cruel, horrible joke and his loving wife would walk through the front door at any moment; safe. He didn't want to think of her in some unknown danger. Scared. Frightened. Alone with the person who had taken her.

He stayed in that position. Hunched in the middle of the couch. His legs apart. Elbows rested on his thighs. The necklace given to her as a gift and the picture were held tightly in his left fist. The letter written to him, but not signed was clenched in his right fist. The paper wrinkled even more than the first time.

"Cornelius?"

The voice sounded so distance to his ears. Like it was played back to him in the slowest way possible. Like when Wilbur was a young child, he would play certain scenes of movies in slow motion then laugh until his lungs no longer held air and his laughter feel into silent cries. That was how the voice sounded to his ears. He felt numbed.

"Cornelius?!"

He snapped his head up to look at his parents sat across from him. Confused and concerned wrinkled faces stared back at him. His eyes shot back and forth from the two. Over and over.

"Cornelius," his mother looked like she wanted to jump up from the couch and embrace him, "what is it? Why are you crying?"

He was crying? Cornelius lifted his right arm up and brushed his cheek with the back of his fist. When he pulled it back he saw the salty water on his skin. Tears. Cornelius _was_ crying. He looked back to his parents with disbelief painted over his features.

"Fra-," he tried to force his voice to form words, but his throat seemed to be closing tight, "Fra-, she is-, Fran-, gone."

Lucille stood up from the couch. "What? Dear, what is going on?" Panic became clear in her voice when she questioned him. She saw the hysteria in Cornelius and was reacting off of his emotions.

"I was right to be worried the other night, mom." Cornelius felt another tear slip down his damp cheek. Lucille looked at the letter and picture he held out for her to see when he stood from the couch. Cornelius watched as her eyes scanned over the rushed handwriting. Her mouth fell open with a horrid sound of shock. Her free hand placed over her lips. "I knew. I knew the second she stopped responding to me. I knew something was not right. This is all my fault."

"How?" Lucille had tears of her own stream down her winkled cheeks. "How is this your fault Cornelius? How could you have prevented this?"

"I should never have let her walk back to that hotel room by herself!" He snapped. The panic and hysteria of the current situation spilt to the surface. "She would be here by my side, safe in her home, safe with me, if I had not listened to her request. That is how this creep got her! They got her because I let her walk to her hotel room, alone. Unprotected. In the rain!"

Bud had stood from the couch during his self-blame. He looked over his wife's shoulder to get a glimpse of the note and picture. His face pained when he looked at Cornelius. "You couldn't have known, son. This is not your doing. Not your fault."

"How can you say that?" Cornelius asked in disbelief. "I am her husband. I am the one person, beside her brother's, that is supposed to protect her. Keep her safe and sound. This," he pointed to the stuff his mother held with his fist locked around the necklace, "is not protecting her! I practically gave them the perfect chance. By letting her walk alone, I gave them the opportunity to take my wife! How can you say that is not my fault?!"

Both his parents just stare at their son with blank but defeated expressions. Cornelius tightened his grip around the necklace as hard as he could. His shoulders began to shake. He placed his other hand around his fist to lock his hands together. He fell to his knees between the couch and the coffee table. He didn't move once his knees hit the floor.

"My fault." His lips moved, but they only mouthed the two words.

The word around him seemed to disappear. The furniture beside himself faded away. The walls melted down into puddles and swirled down a drain. The floor beneath him heated up until he swore flames rose.

Something embraced him. An arm locked around his shoulder, across his collar bone, and held onto his other shoulder. The other hand locked fingers with the one held to his shoulder. A body was pressed against his back and a head rested on his shoulder as they embraced his shaken body. Cornelius saw from the corner of his eye a large amount of soft pink hair. His mother. Cornelius was being held tightly, well as tightly as she could, by his mother. He let the dam break. He let the hurtful tears leak past his eyes. He felt them roll down his already damp cheeks. The tears made his skin itch as they dripped off his chin, but he didn't move to wipe them away. He let his pain show. He let the realization of his wife's danger hit him at full force.

Franny wasn't coming home today like he expected. Like he had waited for. No, Franny was instead held captive somewhere unknown to Cornelius. He had no idea what had been done to her. If she was extremely hurt. If she was afraid. If she even knew what was happening. Cornelius knew his wife. Headstrong, brave, and stubborn. She could handle whatever situation was thrown at her. He knew this from experience. What happened years before, she handled that situation. She could handle this one just the same. But, Cornelius knew that her stubborn nature and never backing down can lead to pain. Cornelius feared that that part of his wife he loved could lead her to being hurt. Beaten. Killed. Fear gripped around his heart at the thought of someone laying a hand upon her.

What was he going to do? How can he get his wife away from the danger? How can he save her? Will he and his family survive this? Will they handle the news when told? Wilbur. How would his son react to learning his mother was taken? Will he blame his father? Would Wilbur hate him for putting his mother in danger?

"We," the sound of his father's voice was what pulled Cornelius from his suffocating bubble, "Cornelius, we should call the police. We need to get help. Get answers and a chance from people who do this best."

Cornelius slowly reached up to touch his mother's clasped hands on his one shoulder. His palms were damp with sweat from the nerves coursed through him. He squeezed her soft, wrinkled hands before he turned his body to look at his father; who stood behind him. Cornelius saw he was the one holding the letter and the picture of his wife.

Cornelius gave a nod and watched as his father walked over to the phone that sat in the entry hall. One of four inside the house. He watched while he dialed the number that would have the police come to their home. Come to gather the evidence and start the process to find his wife. Cornelius didn't hear the words his father spoke into the phone. He only watched as his mouth moved to form them into the speaker. His father placed the phone back then entered the open family room that the entire household used.

Bud walked up to Cornelius and Lucille, still knelt on the floor, and placed the letter and picture on the coffee table. "They said they would be here shortly." Cornelius stopped squeezing his mother's hand and helped her and himself up from the floor. When he saw her face, he noticed that she had been silently crying.

"What else did they say?" Cornelius was freed from his mother's grasp. He stood beside her with his hand placed on her back. Lucille stayed silent with tears frozen from falling again.

"They didn't say much. I'm suspecting they will ask more information from us when they get here."

"Very well. Then we shall wait for them." Without another word, Cornelius took his hand away from his mother's back and headed down the left hall. The last he heard from his parents was the soft weep of his mother's cries.

His numb legs carried him down the left hall of his home. The left down stairs hall held more rooms than the right did. With the right hall, it held Wilbur's bedroom, a bathroom, the family library, and his lab. Were as the left hall held many rooms. Gaston's cannon range, an office space, drawing room, Franny's music lounge, a half bathroom, and the dining room. Some of the rooms had specialized doorknobs. Like Franny's had quarter notes. That is the set of doors that Cornelius stopped before.

His fingers pushed the swinging door open. The thin hall to enter her special room greeted him. Cornelius entered through the short hall and came into the spacious room his wife spent hours in. The room itself was red-violet and gold. Her piano rested to the left and a table set with chairs on the right. A gold railing circled the edge on either side of the floor and stopped at the three steps down to the lower level. The toes of his shoes tipped down the first step. Along the far wall in the middle of the lower level rested the stage and podium she used during her practice. Cornelius glanced in a circle about the room and saw none of her frogs were around.

' _They must be out at the bar in the back of the house.'_

For the first time that day, Cornelius saw his reflection in the large mirror along the wall behind the table set. He saw the same blonde hair that never seemed to fall against the gravity. His clothing that was wrinkled from sitting the way he had. He also saw the state of his face. Cheeks flames with red and damp from his dried tears. The dried tears made his skin seem shiny and rough. Behind the round glasses placed on the bridge of his nose were his red outlined eyes. The once white was tainted with pink. He could see his eyelashes stuck together from crying. Blotched together. If he had to use one word to describe himself, he would say he looked like a wreak.

Time seemed to be his enemy today. What had only felt like a few seconds was actually a few minutes of him standing in the music lounge. The dead quiet music lounge.

It felt odd to him. To be standing inside the room that was usually always alive with noise. Bright and cheerful. Warm. But standing inside it now, Cornelius could feel how cold it was. The dim lighting didn't help with the cold creeping feel he got standing there.

While he continued to stand and look about the room, Cornelius heard the blaring sound of the doorbell. Signaling the arrival of a guest. He didn't need to leave the room to know who was waiting on the other side of the front doors. So, he stayed in the spot he had been and waited. He strained his ears to listen for the familiar and unfamiliar voices. Sound tended to travel along the walls. When the door to the room you were in was open you can usually hear sounds from the family room or vice versa. While he listened, he could hear the voice of his father down the hall. The sound of several shoes bounced along the walls of marble and drowned into the fabric of the music room interior, but his ears could still pick them up.

The change in sound of the shoes was what made Cornelius look away from the mirror. He looked over to the hall for the entrance and exit of the room he stood in. His father was the first person he saw. He was much shorter than the other people that stood behind him. His clothing on backwards and hunched shoulders. Someone had cleared their throat and Cornelius looked to the people dressed in gray and black uniforms. There had to be at least ten or so. All cramped in that tiny hallway meant for one person at a time. Cornelius' eyes fell upon the familiar face of the man standing behind Bud.

Chief Barry.

"Gentlemen." Cornelius gave a sharp nod of his head at the police that stood before him. "Chief Barry, nice to see you again."

Chief Barry seemed uncomfortable and slightly swayed from each foot. "Mr. Robinson." He gave a greeting with a nod of his head like Cornelius did. "If these were better circumstances I would mean it when I say it's nice to see you again as well."

"Yes, of course." Cornelius offered out his hand to signal they could enter the room. "Please, come in." His voice sounded dead. There was no emotion except hurt.

Chief Barry walked around his father and entered into the room. The others followed behind him. Chief Barry walked up to the table set Cornelius was stood near. He held his arm out towards the table. "Please, have a seat Mr. Robinson."

Cornelius didn't need to be told twice. His numbed legs gave out from under him and he plopped down into a chair. His body finally given the chance to relax from the shock wave, but Cornelius' body stayed tensed.

"Mr. Robinson, we are going to have to ask you and others of your family a few questions. The answers you proved us will help make it easier to understand the situation at hand." Cornelius saw that Chief Barry sat in the chair next to his. His larger body turned towards his and a notepad laid on the table. A black pen between his fingers. His blue eyes glanced at the writing at the top of the pad.

' _Missing Person Report.'_

"I know this is going to be hard, but the faster we obtain the information and gather the evidence you received in the mail, the sooner we can start the investigation." Cornelius returned his eyes to Chief Barry. He gave a few weak nods to him; not having the courage to speak unless needed to. "Okay. Can you tell me their name?"

Cornelius was struck with confusion by Chief Barry's first question. "Why do you need to know that? Don't you already know who is missing?"

Chief Barry shook his head. "When dispatch sent us out they didn't give us any information on who it was, but only that there is a missing person. When they told us the last name I headed out to the car faster than I thought I could."

Cornelius sighed and slouched his shoulders. His elbows rested on his bent knees; fingers clasped together. "Francesca Avery Robinson. Though everyone knows her as Franny."

Chief Barry was writing down the information he had just given him. He didn't look up nor stopped writing down the name before he asked the next question. "What is your relationship with the missing person, Mr. Robinson?"

Cornelius struggled to form the words he needed to answer the question. Just hearing the words _'missing person'_ made his stomach flip inside himself. "Franny, she's my wife."

Chief Barry wrote that down under her name in parentheses. "What is your wife's date of birth? Age?"

"Her date of birth is December 18th, 1996." Cornelius took note in his head that her birthday would be in three months and twenty-two days. He wondered if she would be with him and the family to celebrate it. Be with them for Thanksgiving. Christmas.

"Mr. Robinson."

"Huh?"

"Thank you for joining us down here on earth. I asked for her age."

"Oh," Cornelius adjusted his glasses, "she is forty years. Forty-one in December."

The scribble of his pen wrote down the information. "Race?"

"White." He saw Chief Barry jot it down and also her gender.

"Can your wife communicate, Mr. Robinson?"

"What kind of question is that?!" His voice grew loud.

"What I mean is does she know her own name or address?"

Cornelius lowered his brows in frustration. "Of course she does."

"I asked that question because I have to. Normally it is asked for missing children because we need to know if they do get away from their captor if they can tell someone their name or address." Chief Barry explained then wrote on the pad. "Now," he placed the pen down and gave his full attention to Cornelius, "I am going to ask you a series of questions. We don't know your missing wife and we need to know as much as we can about them to better understand, and figure out what they would do in a given situation. This can also give us an idea of where to search and make the best use of our resources."

"Alright."

"Does your wife smoke, Mr. Robinson?"

"No. Of course not." Cornelius replied.

"Does your wife have any signs or symptoms of an illness or injury?"

"No. Franny is perfectly healthy."

"Do they have any allergies to insect bites or medications we need to be aware of?"

"As far as I know of, Franny is only allergic to sea food. Any and all kinds."

Cornelius tried to think of any others, but his brain came up blank.

"Are they taking any medications at the moment?"

"No." Cornelius answered. "She did at one point in her life, but that was years ago."

"What was she taking?"

"Why do you need to know? She doesn't take any medication now."

Chief Barry leaned towards Cornelius. "I understand that, but we need to know as much as possible about your wife. Her health, mental statues, her past. Everything given to us helps."

"Franny became very depressed when she was fifteen. The therapist suggested she take anti-depressants. She wasn't on them long. I wanna say about a year in a half to two years. She got better after that. I don't know much about how she was between that time. We had stopped talking. Her brothers could tell you more about that time, but they aren't here as of now."

The Chief scribbled down the information. "Do you know what caused her depression?"

Cornelius' muscles tensed up. He didn't like to relive the event and Franny avoided it at all costs. He hesitated to give the answer, but he knew that he had to give it. "Franny lost her birth mother. Then when her dad remarried two months later it sent her into a deep spiral. It was a lot for a fifteen-year-old to lost their mother then find out their father was having an affair."

Chief Barry nodded his head in agreement. "So besides that are there any other past medical conditions?"

Cornelius shook his head.

"When was the last time they had food or water? That you know of."

Cornelius thought for a moment. "I am positive she had food and water last Sunday. When she is nervous she eats. And I mean eats." He smirked at the memories that played.

"Has anything like this ever happen before? Disappearing? Missing?"

"I do not think so."

"What about when she was depressed? No running away?"

"During that time Franny and I weren't really in communication. You would have to ask her brother's about that. Her parents." Cornelius adjusted his position to stretch his limbs out.

"Mr. Robinson when did you notice your wife was missing?"

"I knew this afternoon. When I received the package."

"What were you doing prior to the time you noticed them missing?"

"Well," Cornelius paused, "I've been at work most of the time. Actually almost all my time is spent doing work."

"Why aren't you at work today?"

"I was waiting for my wife to return home."

"When was the last time you saw your wife?" Chief Barry had turned the page of the notepad twice already.

"Sunday was the last day I saw her. We had traveled to Moorestown for a performance she took place in. After the performance our son, Wilbur wanted to go out for dinner. Franny wanted to go back to the hotel room. I had offered to walk back with her, but she wanted to have time alone. The hotel was only a couple blocks from the concert hall."

Cornelius felt a tingle in his legs from sitting like he was, so he pushed himself up from the chair. As he stood, Cornelius noticed the necklace still locked within his hand.

"The next set of questions may be sensitive, but we need to ask them to better understand the missing persons state of mind or possible impairments. What is your wife's sex habits?"

Cornelius just stared at Chief Barry. His face slowly became warm from embarrassment. Never had he disclosed his sex life or his wife's to anyone. To him, it was no one's business.

"Um," Cornelius stuttered, "they are good."

"Mr. Robinson, do you think it is possible your wife could be having an affair?"

"What kind of question is that?!" Cornelius grew angry and insulted by the questioned asked of him. His wife? His Franny having an affair? "No, Chief Barry! My wife is in no way having an affair."

"How do you know this?"

Cornelius tightened his hands. His fingernails dug into his palms. "How do I know? How do I know?! I know my wife, Chief Barry. We are happy. Franny is happy with me. We take every moment we can to show it. With my job, yes she doesn't see me all the time, but that doesn't mean she would run off to go be with someone else!"

"Is your marriage heading for a potential breakup?" Chief Barry seemed to ignore all that Cornelius had just said. His anger level rose higher than it has in years. The last time he was this angry was nearly seventeen years ago.

"How dare you!" Cornelius shouted. "My wife is missing. Taken! And you think she ran away with someone else?!"

Bud grabbed his shoulders. "Calm down, Cornelius. They are just doing their job."

"One last question, Mr. Robinson. Is there anything else we should know that could help us locate the missing person?"

Cornelius walked up to the table that Chief Barry still sat at, and slammed his fist down. When he lifted his hand the necklace that was given to her rested on the table. "That necklace was a gift from myself and Wilbur. She wouldn't leave her family. She couldn't leave Wilbur. Look over the items and letter sent to me by who took her. That could be a start to finding her." Cornelius started for the door. "Excuse me."

Cornelius walked by all the other officers that stood in the room. Each one stepped to the side to allow him the access to exit the room. When the path to the hall was cleared, Cornelius started through the tiny hallway. He halted on his heels before he walked into the main hall.

His breath hitched in his throat.

"What is going on dad?!" Wilbur spoke from the doorway before Cornelius.

His eyes glanced from his son, to the boy standing beside him, back to his son. Both of the boys still holding onto their school bags.

* * *

 **Chapter is up!  
Hope you all enjoyed it! I had fun writing the questions!  
Read and Review!**


	33. Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three  
Wilbur

 _Todayland: Wednesday, August 26th, 2037_

 **H** is skinny chicken legs carried his body down the rest of the sidewalk and across the plain of grass between. He raced under the bush arch that marked the start of the Robinson property. His messenger bag flew around behind him. He could feel it bang against his legs as he pushed himself across the property and up the concrete porch steps. He grabbed the door handle, his thumb didn't push down the latch, so his body collided with the solid wood. He used his free hand to push himself away. He pressed down on the latch and used his body strength to swing the door open faster. He raced inside.

Wilbur raced through the entry hall and skidded to a stop in the family room. His wide brown eyes scanned over the police standing inside the larger than needed room. Out of breath and panting, Wilbur looked about as police took pictures of his home. Some were writing things on notepads. Others were talked in hushed voices within a group. A louder pant than his own suffocated his ear.

Wilbur clutched the strap to his school bag and looked over his right shoulder. Caleb stood slightly behind him and his head was moving all around to see the action. Caleb looked at Wilbur with confusion, shock, and a questionable expression. Wilbur answered with his eyes with just as much confusion. Neither of the boys knew what was going on.

' _Did something explode?'_

Wilbur moved his way around the gathered police. He made sure not to look at them directly. He kept out of the picture shots being taken. He made his way through them and stopped near the couches, chairs, and coffee table set up around the space between the staircases. On the coffee table rested the opened box he had tripped over earlier that morning. He couldn't see what else rested on the table because a few cops were stood around it; blocked his view.

"Where is your family, Wilbur?" Caleb's voice spoke up from beside him.

Wilbur turned his head around to look about the room. Every person he saw was in uniform. To busy doing something else to notice him or Caleb standing in the middle of the room. "I don't see any of them."

"Wanna ask someone?" Wilbur shook his head before he even thought of an answer. He spun his body around to look for any member of his family.

' _Where is Carl?'_

Both boys jumped in their spot when they heard shouting from down the hall. Wilbur didn't look at Caleb before he jogged down the left hall. His best guess at where the sound came from. His bag once again bounced off his legs. He passed by his grandma and Carl, who were stood near his mother's music lounge. His jog stopped just before the opened doors. Caleb bumped into Wilbur's back and quickly said he was sorry. Wilbur ignored Caleb's run into his back, but forgave it. He turned his head towards Carl and his grandma. What he noticed was tears silently running down her cheeks. One by one. Carl was stood beside, but behind, his grandma. His face morphed into one of concern. Obviously not knowing what to do.

"Carl," Wilbur focused his eyes with Carl's LED blue ones, "what is going on?"

Carl only pointed a thin gold metal finger at the opened music doors. His head shaken from side to side. Wilbur followed his best friends pointed finger. His feet moved from his spot and he faced into the hall of his mother's lounge. Caleb stepped up next to him. Wilbur was nearly run down by his father, but Cornelius stopped just before.

"What is going on dad?!" Wilbur's voice was more forceful than scared. He watched as his dad looked back and forth between himself and Caleb. His fingers gripped his strap tighter. His father didn't say a word. Wilbur's patience was worn down, and he grew agitated with the non-answers. "Dad?"

Cornelius seemed to snap out of whatever trance he fell into for he placed a hand on his shoulder and twisted him around. Both Cornelius' hands rested upon his shoulders and began to push him deeper into the hall. Wilbur's legs didn't resist to stop his father from pushing him. He allowed his father to lead him down the hall and into the office space Cornelius used the most. The room next to his mother's music lounge. His dad removed a hand from his shoulder to open the door. Both walked inside. Wilbur stepped further inside than his dad. When he stood before the two chairs in front of the desk, Wilbur turned his upper body to face Cornelius. He was still stood at the door. Hand on the knob.

Caleb came into the doorway at that moment. He looked at Wilbur then to his dad. Cornelius looked over to Wilbur. His eyes went to meet his blue.

"You can come in kiddo." His dad spoke.

Caleb entered with a hurried stride. He stopped near a bookcase of books and glanced around the good size room. Smaller than the music room. Wilbur watched as his father closed the door then made his way over to the desk.

"Dad," Wilbur decided to start the conversation, "what is happening? Why are there police here? Why is everyone so quiet and crying?"

"Well not everyone is crying Wilbur." Caleb pointed out. "The old lady in the hall was the only one."

Wilbur snapped his head towards his friend. "The old lady is my grandma. My dad's mom."

Caleb turned red in his cheeks. He muttered a _'sorry'_ and went back to looking at anything but him or his dad. Wilbur tilted his head slightly when he saw him pucker his lips. Like he was silently whistling. Wilbur turned his attention back to his father when he cleared his throat.

"Who is this, Wilbur?" Cornelius asked motioning towards his friend.

"That doesn't matter at the moment. Tell me what is going on here." Wilbur pulled the strap to his bag over his head and let it fall to the ground beside his feet.

Cornelius looked defeated at his repeated question. His head hung low and he leaned on the desk with a hand and his other pinched his nose. "Wilbur, have a seat."

Wilbur looked at one of the provided chairs then back to his father. He lowered his brows and placed his fists on his hips. "No. Just tell me what happened."

"What I am going to tell you will be a shock." His father looked at him. "It's best if you sit."

Wilbur stomped his foot. "Say it!"

Cornelius gave him a hard look. "Wilbur Matthew Robinson I said sit down!" Wilbur was shocked at the tone his father just used. No want to be screamed at again, Wilbur plopped down into a chair; arms crossed over his chest. He watched his father. Cornelius sighed. "Wilbur," he seemed to be hesitant, "I'm not sure how you are going to react to learning this. Believe me, as your father this is probably one of many things that I never want to tell you. Hell, I don't even wanna be told it."

Wilbur saw his father was stuttered and rambled. His dad was trying to stall from telling Wilbur what needed to be told. "Dad! Just tell me! I don't know what could be so horrible that you don't wanna say. Did someone die?"

Cornelius locked his eyes with his. "Son," Cornelius swallowed, "your mother is missing."

Wilbur continued to stare eye to eye with his dad. His brain contemplated on the words that were just spoken.

' _Missing?'_ Wilbur began to talk to himself inside his brain. _'What does he mean by missing?'_

' _Well obviously he means that she isn't home.'_ Wilbur answered himself.

' _But is that the true meaning? That she isn't home from her trip yet? She got lost?'_

' _No genius. Think about all you have seen. There are police photographing your home. Your grandma and best friend Carl are all upset. Your father looks and sounds like a wreck.'_

' _So, when he says missing. Does he mean she is gone? Like gone gone?'_

' _But it seems to me like there is more to it.'_

Wilbur pulled himself from inside his head. "When you mean 'missing' dad, do you mean-"

"I mean she has been taken, Wilbur. I don't know by who, but she was kidnapped." Cornelius answered his unfinished question. His father looked broken.

Wilbur looked away from his father's face. He stared at the floor. His breathing became harder and quicker the more he thought about what his dad just said. Wilbur's crossed arms loosened. One grabbed the arm of the chair in a grip that could tear the fabric. His other pressed against his chest. He balled the shirts he wore in his fist. "No," he whispered at first, "no," his voice became louder, "no, no, no!"

He repeated this one word over and over until his sods chocked him. Wilbur let his tears fall over his cheeks like a waterfall.

He coughed. He chocked. He sobbed. He screamed his pain. He yelled his hate. He cried his question out.

Wilbur felt like he couldn't breathe. His throat felt like a collar had been locked around it much to tight, and then someone continuously pulled on it. His chest hurt from the lack of needed oxygen he wasn't getting. His legs went numbed. He stood from the chair, but fell to his knees in a fit of shakes and sobs. At that moment in his young life, Wilbur didn't care that his father and friend watched him. He didn't care that they could see him break down. He didn't mind them hearing his pitiful cries of no's and whys. Wilbur didn't care one bit. All that Wilbur cared about was the fact he was just told his mother was kidnapped. All his questions circled inside his skull much too fast for him to try and provide any answers. Wilbur bent over to make himself as small as he could. He wanted nothing more than to wake up from the nightmare he found himself in.

A sudden, strong thing embraced Wilbur. It pulled his body from his made ball. His cheek pressed into something hard and soiled. He snapped his blurry, tear filled eyes open to see what was holding him. His father's vest came into sight. He saw his father's arms wrapped around his arms and back. His cheek was pressed into his chest. Wilbur couldn't remember the last time he was held like this by his dad. Wilbur reached a hand out to grab onto his shirts. Once he had a good hold, he buried his face in the itchy fabric of his vest and cried.

Wilbur let all his hurt and frustration out. All the emotional pain from Bobby's death was released from his chest as well as the shock from learning of his mother's kidnapping. He sobbed harder than he had before. He cried harder than the time he broke his arm falling off his bike while trying to learn without training wheels. His tears seemed like they would never dry out.

Sometime after his dad wrapped him in his arms, someone else came from behind and wrapped their arms around him as well. Wilbur didn't bother to look at who it was. At that moment, all Wilbur wanted was to be held. He wanted to be wrapped as tight as someone could and never let go. He wasn't the cocky, confident, impatient thirteen-year-old boy anymore. He was a young teen who wanted nothing but his mother to be the one holding him to her chest. To feel her fingers run through his hair to sooth and her voice telling him everything would be alright. Thinking of that want made Wilbur close his eyes and just prolong the needed embrace by his father and Caleb.

When a knock at the door interrupted his violent cries, he pulled his face away from his father's chest and turned to look at the doorway. Wilbur's red, swollen eyes came to find a figure standing between the trim of the doorframe. He saw the gray and black uniform of a police officer. He was large, well everywhere.

"Chief Barry, what can I do for you?" His father spoke up in a horsed, painful voice. Had his father been silently crying with him?

"Mr. Robinson, I'm sorry to interrupt, but we need to ask your son a few questions. We just finished with your parents." Chief Barry stated.

Wilbur looked away from the man who was the chief of the police squad in his home to his father. Cornelius looked down at him. He watched his dad's face morph into a painful expression. Wilbur guessed it was from seeing the fearful, distressful look his face must have been. His father looked back to the chief.

"I don't think now is the best time to-"

"Dad," Wilbur interrupted him, "it's fine. I can do it." Wilbur moved his body to stand, and both Cornelius and Caleb released their hold on him. Wilbur faced the officer. The chief motioned for Wilbur to follow him. Wilbur walked ahead of the chief and turned into the music lounge upon his command. Wilbur turned his head around to see his father and Caleb had followed behind them. "Caleb, maybe it's best if you head home."

Caleb gripped the straps to his black and green bag. "Do you want me to leave?"

Wilbur looked over his friend and shook his head. "No, I don't."

Caleb straightened his shoulders. "Then I shall stay."

Wilbur turned his head back to the chief who waited by the table. Three others stood around the room. More pictures were being taken and notes written down. He made his way into the chair that the large man held his hand out toward. His father came to sit next to him, and Caleb stood not far from him.

"Alright son, I'm gonna ask you a couple questions. Do your best to answer a truthfully as you can." Chief Barry said to Wilbur before he picked up the pen and flipped to a fresh page on the yellow pad.

"I don't know how much help I will be to your investigation." Wilbur admitted. "I only just found out my mom is missing. Like minutes ago."

Chief leaned close to him. "It's okay Wilbur. We are just gonna ask simple questions like when was the last time you saw or heard from your mom?"

Wilbur thought about it for a moment. His brows lowered. "Sunday. Last Sunday. We all went to Moorestown for a Symphony performance mom took place in. Dad, grandma, grandpa and I all went to dinner. Mom went back to the hotel. She left from backstage."

Wilbur watched the black pen scribble across the page. He saw how large and messy the chief's handwriting was. _'No wonder he's used so many pages already.'_

"Wilbur," Chief Barry caught his attention again, "since that time did you notice anything wrong or suspect?"

"At first no," Wilbur grabbed his chin, "but when mom wasn't communicating with anyone, dad was getting uneasy. I didn't think anything of it. I mean she was supposed to be busy with the director of the concert hall."

"Has she tried to communicate with you at all since Sunday? Phone call? Text?"

Wilbur shook his head. "No. She didn't answer when I called her Monday afternoon. I brushed it off though."

Chief Barry nodded his head as he wrote. When he wrote the last letter, he dropped the pen onto the pad. He leaned on his knees toward him. "Now, Wilbur," he started with hesitation, "I'm going to ask a few questions about your mother. If you don't know, then that is okay. But be honest and don't try to cover for her or keep her an angel in our eyes."

Wilbur could only nod.

"Do you know if your mother is seeing someone else?" Chief Barry cleared his throat. "What I mean is does she have a boyfriend that no one knows about?"

Wilbur felt offended by both questions. The first being that Chief Barry thought he needed to dumb down his question for Wilbur. The second that he thought his mother was capable of cheating on his dad. Wilbur got the adrenalin rush to bolt up from his seat, but he ignored it. "No Chief Barry. My mother isn't cheating on dad. No boyfriend." He said sourly.

"So you don't think she ran away with another man, and came up with a kidnapping to throw us off their trail?"

Wilbur didn't ignore the adrenalin or the anger that pushed inside himself that time. His body shot up from the chair. He barely towered over the chief, but he still looked down at him with balled fists. "How can you talk about my mom like that? My mom loves my dad. They have been married for twelve years! Been friends even longer! She would never do that!"

Strong hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back from the chief's face. "Why would you even ask my son that?" His dad questioned from behind him.

Wilbur turned his body so he could wrap his arms around his mid-section. He pressed his forehead into his chest. Wilbur hated and loved the fact he had grown so tall at the age of thirteen. He loved that now he could put his head to his father's chest instead of his stomach or his leg, but he hated that he was tall when he embraced his mother. Wilbur had enjoyed grabbing onto her hips and crying into the skirts of her dresses as a young child. He missed when she would reach down to rub his back; try to calm his cries. Then she would bend down to her knees and press him into her shoulder. Her body engulfing his tiny one. He smirked at the several memories of when his cries would seem stupid when she held him, and he would try to stop.

"He just found out about his mother, and you ask him if she ran off? Left him willingly?" The hard tone of his dad's voice made Wilbur flinch from his memories and further into his chest.

"I apologize Mr. Robinson, but I have to ask that question to every member of the family and close friends. You may believe strongly that your wife wouldn't cheat and leave you, but it happens more than you think." Chief Barry began to explain. "A lot of times with the kidnapping of a spouse, it is because they tried to break things off with the partner and they don't take it well. They retaliate and will take them by force. Try to make them stay with them instead of going back to their husband."

Wilbur had released his dad and turned to face the chief during his explanation. A fresh set of tears had secretly escaped from his eyes and were worked down his cheeks. Slowly dripped from his chin down to the floor. He could feel his skin itch from the saltiness. He used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe as much of the tears as he could. He even removed the streams of snot that fell from his nose.

"Well, that isn't my mom. She wouldn't leave her family." Wilbur stared into the Chief's eyes. "Do you have any other questions for me?"

Chief Barry looked away from Wilbur to the notepad before him. "At the moment no. But don't stray far."

Wilbur didn't say a word.

He moved his legs to carry him from the room. He turned down the hall and stomped against the marble. A second sound of shoes echoed after his. He guessed Caleb was behind. Wilbur didn't let up on his stomped feet. He just walked.

His emotions were all over, and he couldn't figure out which one he wanted to feel most. He was hurt over his mother not coming home. He was heartbroken over learning she had been taken by someone. He was frustrated that he didn't know something was up sooner and for the fact he couldn't stop his tears. He wiped them away with his sleeve again. A grip on his arm made Wilbur nearly trip over his feet. He snapped his head to see who grabbed him. Caleb's fingers were wrapped in his sleeve. His expression calm. Wilbur tried to jerk his arm free, but Caleb seemed to grab tighter.

"Hang on." Caleb spoke. Wilbur stopped his pull.

"What?" Wilbur snapped, but didn't mean to.

"What's going on inside your head?"

Wilbur looked into Caleb's eyes. What was going on inside his head? "I don't know."

"You don't know," Caleb raised a brow, "or you don't want to know?"

Wilbur thought about that question. Did he really not know, or was he too afraid to stop a moment and think about what was going through it? His stream of tears could give away he was sad or frustrated. The stomp in his stride could give he was angry. But what was truly his feelings?

"I," Wilbur cleared his throat, "I think I'm afraid to know." Caleb's grip loosened from his sleeve until his palm was just rested on his shirt.

Caleb stepped closer to him. "Do you wanna talk about it?" His calm face grew into question.

Wilbur gave him a shrug and a tilt of his head. Wilbur wasn't sure what he wanted to do. He wasn't sure if he wanted to act as if nothing was wrong. He wasn't sure if he wanted to run to his bedroom, lock the door and cry to himself. He wasn't sure if he wanted to talk to anyone. Wilbur didn't know if he could do anything.

"Wilbur?"

The voice wasn't Caleb's, and that caused both young boys to look at the figure that stepped up to them. Wilbur's dad. When he stood next to them both, he placed a firm hand on his shoulder and looked to Caleb.

"I was wondering-" Cornelius extended his word as his way of asking for his friend's name.

"Caleb."

"Caleb, if you wouldn't mind giving me some alone time with my son. I won't keep him long, I just want-"

Caleb held a palm up. "You don't have to say any more, Mr. Robinson." Caleb turned to Wilbur. "Take all the time you need. I'll wait in the large room with the cattle of police." He stalked down the rest of the hall and disappeared around the staircase.

"Wilbur?" His dad grabbed his full attention. Cornelius pulled Wilbur out of the middle of the hall and closer to the wall; near a decorative vase his mom had placed. He wiped more tears from his damp, stiff cheeks. He was glad they were falling slower and less at a time. "I," his dad ran a hand through his hair, "I'm not sure what to say to you right now. I don't know the right words to speak that could help you get through this."

Wilbur looked up at his dad. "An 'Everything will be okay, son. Your mother is going to be found safe' would be a good start." His tone was swiped of any emotion.

Cornelius looked away from him for a brief few seconds then returned them. "That's the problem Wilbur. I want more than anything to say that. I want to say that everything will turn out alright. That she is okay and will be brought back to us. You don't know how much I want to believe that, but I don't know that. I don't know if she is okay. I don't know who took her. I don't know what they want in exchange for her. I don't know what this outcome will be." His father stopped to take in a deep breath through his nose then let it out in a loud sigh. "I don't want to lie to you about this. You're a teenager. You're smarter than younger children are. I can't say something I don't mean then relax that you fell for it. You are a brilliant boy Wilbur, you'll know I was lying to you just to make you try and feel better."

"Isn't that better than feeling like we are? Like you do?" Wilbur questioned. His emotions risen once more. "To believe mom will be found safe is better than nothing dad."

Wilbur jumped when his dad's hand hit the wall with a _smack_. Cornelius leaned on his stretched arm. "Yes, we need to have hope Wilbur. But what if I say to you what you want to hear and something happens?"

Wilbur crossed his arms over his stomach. "Like what? What could be so bad that _my dad_ , the one person here I want to know has some hope, can't give me some reassurance that things will turn out alright?!"

"Like your mother could never be found, Wilbur!" Cornelius snapped on him. Wilbur felt the pressure on both his upper arms. His father's large hands held them tight, but not tight to where it hurt, to the sides of his body; he had uncrossed them. Wilbur looked into his dad's gaze with wide eyes. His mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but just only allowed air to enter then exit. Wilbur felt his father's thumbs rub back and forth. A sign that he wasn't angry at him, but more to sooth Wilbur. "The possibility of her never coming back!"

Wilbur searched the blue orbs behind the round, brown glasses his father wore all hours of the day until he slept. Wilbur saw so many emotions floating around inside the blue color that reminded him of a swimming pool. He saw his father's pain. He saw the frustration. He saw the anger, the hatred, the heartbreaking sadness. The heartbreaking sadness that threatened to spill from his eyes. Wilbur saw how miserable his father was.

"Dad," Wilbur took a step back from his father's closeness, "is she never coming back?" Cornelius' hands dropped from his arms the moment his fearful voice spoke. "Did the chief ask me that question about mom having a boyfriend because it's true?! She left us for another man? I mean, you've hardly been home lately. Did she stray?!"

Wilbur's voice went frenetic. Along with his breathing. The air entered and left his body quick with each passed word he let out. Fresh tears built up in his eyes, but he refused to let anymore fall for a while. His eyes were raw and burned, and the built up tears only made them hurt more. His cheeks hurt from the crazy sob he had done.

"No!" His father's voice calmed down, but still louder than normal. "No, of course not Wilbur. Your mother isn't seeing anyone else. She didn't leave me. She didn't leave you." Cornelius leaned against the wall with his back and slid down to the floor. Exhaustion clearly consumed his body. "I didn't mean it that way. There are others ways she can never come back Wilbur. I have no clue who has taken Franny. I don't really know what they want. What they are doing to her."

Wilbur gasped. "Do you mean," Wilbur swallowed the thick lump in his throat, "that they could…kill her?"

His father only nodded his answer as a few silent tears fell from his eyes. Wilbur dropped to his knees.

The single thought of his mother found dead sent a pain inside his chest. With all he had learned since he arrived home, what was just acknowledged was the most painful. The most destroying. Wilbur closed his eyes as tight as he could manage.

 _One, two, three, four, five._

He snapped them open again. His eyes fell over his father. Wilbur was being watched by his dad in the same hall he was in before he closed his eyes. Wilbur snapped his lids together.

 _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten._

Wilbur came to look at his dad. Both father and son stared at the other, both still on the floor, and their tears stained to their cheeks. He was still in the nightmare he walked into. He shook his head.

"Wilbur? What are you doing?" He ignored his dad and closed his eyes again. His lips moved, but no sound came from them.

 _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…_

"Wilbur." He was shaken and looked at his dad again. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to wake from this nightmare." Wilbur snapped. "Mom always told me that if I was having a nightmare then I should close my eyes and count to five. When I opened them and I was still there then to keep going up by five. I always works!"

Cornelius looked at him with utter sadness. "Oh, Wilbur, this isn't a dream. This is a living nightmare you can't wake up from easily."

Without another word, Wilbur pushed himself up from the floor and ran; knocked his father over in the process. His shaky legs carried him down the rest of the hall and into the family room. He spotted Caleb stood out of the way. His bag still on his shoulders. Wilbur didn't stop running. He pushed his way around the police and raced through the entry hall.

"Wilbur?"

He heard Caleb call his name in question. He ignored it. He pushed his body to reach the front door. He had to stop to pull the door open. The chill of the August night embraced him. Wilbur saw that the sun had begun to set. The sky darker, and tiny stars dotted the sky.

"Wilbur!"

He heard his father's voice call out to him. He twisted his head around to see him stop before the entry hall. Caleb stood beside him. Both looked at him. Wilbur went through the door and out onto the porch.

"Wilbur!"

He heard both say his name that time, but he didn't stop. He leaped down the steps three at a time. He wanted to run. He wanted to get away. Wilbur wanted to get away from the nightmare, and go back to the way things were last week. He continued to run. He was about halfway to the arch and opened gate that would take him off the property. His father and friend behind him.

Wilbur felt like he was suffocating. The nightmare he was running from was faster than he. It grabbed a hold of his legs, and caused him to trip. He fell face first into the dirt path.

"Wilbur!"

"Wilbur?"

He heard four different voices call out his name, but he didn't get up. Wilbur laid there on his stomach and cheek pressed in the dirt. Fresh tears wet his cheeks. He wanted the nightmare to end. He wanted nothing more than to wake up and embrace his mother. Wilbur had to be dreaming. He just had to be dreaming right? This couldn't happen to his family. He tried to make his brain refuse it, but his brain was more powerful and openly welcomed all the horror.

"Wilbur?" A familiar voice called his name close to his ear. Two sets of footsteps stopped before his body. The voice was not his dads or Caleb's. "Hey little tadpole. What's wrong?"

' _Tadpole. The nickname I was given as a newborn. A nickname given by his mother.'_

Four hands grabbed his arms and hauled him up from the ground. He half expected it to be his father and Caleb that pulled him up to his feet, but the two figures he saw were defiantly not them. Wilbur couldn't answer the question, he could only stare at them.

"Cornelius, what is going on? Why are there police here?" One asked.

His mother was really gone. She was really taken. She was really in danger. But the one thing Wilbur didn't know was how much danger she was really in. With the relentless tears falling and snot running down his lips, Wilbur answered.

"Mom's gone Uncle Art."

* * *

 **Hey guy's!  
I am making my own self emotional writing these chapters!  
But I hope you guy's enjoyed Wilbur's reaction and emotional state. And now Franny's older brother's, Gaston and Art, have returned from visiting their parents.  
So, I have a question: Where do you guy's think Everette is holding Franny?  
Look forward to reading reviews and seeing your answers. If you need hints, look at the last chapter in his view. It may seem obvious, but try to think.  
Good luck! Review my lovely readers.**


	34. Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four  
Franny

 _Unknown: Wednesday, August 26th, 2037_

 **F** ranny had no idea how long she had laid there curled into a ball upon the concrete floor.

The right side of her body pressed against the floor, her arm tucked into her chest, and left arm rested along the floor; palm flat against the ground. Her right cheek had gone cold long before, but she refused to remove it. She refused to move at all. Much of that was because she hurt and when she tried to adjust her position she felt nothing but pain rush through her. Every breath she took in, her right side burned like ice. It hurt to breathe, but Franny was thankful for the coldness of the concrete that numbed the pain down to less than it was earlier. It eased the pain only in her side and not her cheek. The ache in her face was great and Franny wanted to cry again, but she couldn't force anymore tears to fall from her eyes. She was all dried up. The tears she had let fall earlier left stiff trails over her face. Her skin cracked and itched from the dried salty tears. Her nose clogged from the snot that had fallen. She didn't move to clean her face with her hand, she laid there on the cold floor that left goosebumps continuously down her skin.

When the cries of pain had ended, Franny had focused her eyes on nothing but the glass of ice water he left on the table. She had watched the ice melt into smaller and smaller pieces of frozen water until they were nothing more. That was how she knew some time had passed. Her brown eyes stung with every blink and every movement they made, but she ignored it while she followed each run of condensation down the side of the glass.

Franny trailed a stream down as she focused on her jumbled thoughts. Her temples began to thump against her skull and made her groan. Her mind took her thoughts to her husband, Cornelius. How he would bring her something cool for her head, medication, water, and a book to help rid of the headache. He would make her take the tiny pills with the water, much to her distaste, and read her a favorite book as she relaxed against him with the cool rag across her forehead. The thought nearly made her smile, but it was only a thought. It wouldn't happen for this headache.

Cornelius.

How Franny missed her husband. She missed him and her son, Wilbur. She wondered how they were and what they were doing. Had they noticed she was gone yet? Did Cornelius receive the message from Everett about her disappearance yet? Had Wilbur figured something was wrong? How would they take the shock of her kidnapping? Would they worry about her safety? If she was alright? What could be done to her? Would her husband loose himself? Wilbur, would he break down? Could Cornelius find a way to blame himself for what happened?

' _No!'_ Franny screamed to herself. Her thoughts halted. _'Don't think of them like that. They are strong men. They will be alright. Cornelius is strong and Wilbur is brave. They both won't let this break them down. They will help each other keep standing, and do everything they can to help return me safely.'_ Franny curled her fingers where the pendant used to be. _'But, that is what I am afraid of. They could get hurt while trying to hurry and save me. If either got hurt because of me, I would never forgive myself. No,'_ she followed another drop down the glass until it met the table top, _'I wouldn't forgive the man that caused this.'_

She finally closed her eyes when the burn intensified from the tiny build of tears. The pain that followed the tears was not physical. The pain she felt was cold around her heart when she thought of her husband and son's suffered faces. Her body shook on the ground from the image and Franny curled into a tinier ball. The cold swept up into her body which numbed her ache. It allowed her muscles to go limp from the clench they had been in. Her head felt light on the ground; almost like she was rested in midair. Her eyes left like fifty pound weights and glued themselves together for they wouldn't open again. Franny's body was cold, but she grew use to the feel. The goosebumps never faded from her fair skin. The skirts of her dirty dress covered as much of her legs as possible, and she didn't fight her bodies need of rest any longer. She took a deep breath in then released it slowly.

Her ears picked up a soft chirped sound. Like a cricket.

A _crunch_ of leaves and twigs by feet entered in not long after.

A loud pant of breath followed around.

She was carried through an unmarked path. Her feet bare, dirty, cut, raced along the unknown. Her arms swung out to push things that blocked her. Branches. Moss. She raced. Her feet climbed over fallen tree branches. Thick tree trucks covered in bright green moss. She slid off one and fell to the ground with a _thud_. She scrambled up to run again, but after a few feet she stopped her haste.

Why was she in a sprint? What was it she ran from?

Light rain fell around her stilled body as she thought. Everything around her was brightened in color. Green. Green moss. Green leaves. Green everything. The _chirp_ of crickets continued along with the _patter_ of rain against leaves.

"Franny."

She spun around to face the direction the voice came from. Her eyes saw him, but her brain didn't believe it was really him. He looked just the same as she last saw him. Button down shirt, dress pants, sweater vest, and shoes shined.

"Cornelius." Her voice was breathy. "Cornelius, I'm frightened."

"I know." He answered her. "I know you are."

Franny grabbed the sharp ache in her upper right side with a hand. She gasped in pain. "I don't know what he plans to do with me, Cornelius. The pain he leaves me in is horrible."

Cornelius looked at her with a hurtful expression. "I am trying, my love. I will save you from this."

"Cornelius." He had started to disappear. "Cornelius! Cornelius please! Don't leave me here with him!"

She awoke with a startle.

"Ah!" Her scream sounded unfamiliar to her ears. Her eyes snapped open.

The brightness of the basement hurt her eyes and she wanted to close them again, but the hands that grabbed at her arms kept them opened. Her body and mind half awake, she fought against what grabbed at her. She tried to push herself away with both her hands and legs. She pressed her feet into the concrete, but her shoes only slid along the ground. The grip on the bottom of her shoe didn't grab. Her effort was weak, she knew that, but she couldn't make herself stop. Where was her husband? He was just with her. Did he leave her alone to face the horror by herself? Her arms jerked against the hands that continued to grab at her.

"Enough!" The voice shouted.

' _No, he didn't._ ' Franny woke up to her living nightmare. _'It was only a dream.'_

A hand snatched onto one of her elbows and twisted it. She yelped in pain. The fingers dug into her flesh. "That is enough, my dear." Franny came to look at his face. His pale eyes burned into her own. Her fight had stopped. She sat there on the floor, her upper body no longer connected with the concrete. All her strength was gone, and his grip on her elbow kept her arm pinned to her chest. "Good girl."

Franny clenched her teeth together. The pain in her cheek increased.

"Now get up," Everett began to pull her from the floor, "and come with me."

She panicked. The moment her body started to leave the floor, her struggle returned. "No! Let go of me!"

Everett growled in frustration. She felt him take hold of both her upper arms, his grip tight, and pinned them to her sides. His knuckles pressed deep into her ached ribs. "Stop fighting me!"

"Never." Franny spat in his face.

They had both stopped their fight. Franny was swept to her feet and pressed against his chest before she could blink another time. He wrapped an arm around her back and held her in place. His other went for her face. By nature, she flinched and that made him chuckle. She felt his fingers slide back into her hair and grabbed a fist full. He yanked hard and forced her head to tilt. Her eyes met his.

"I could play this game with you all day long, but I grow tired of your defiance." His voice was dangerously calm, and Franny didn't know if she found that to be more terrifying than when he was angry. "All I want is for you to do what I ask. Believe me, your fighting spirit is great enjoyment but continuously is very trying."

Franny was suddenly twisted around so her back was to him. His arms held both her collarbone and his other across her pelvis; his fingers pressed into her hipbone. Her back pressed into his solid chest. His fingers held her tight and he started to move. She felt his hand on her hip slip around in the silk fabric of her skirts as he moved them both toward the staircase. Franny was lifted to were the toes of her shoes only touched the ground. Her hands reached up to grab at his arm across her chest, nails scratched at the sleeve of his jacket, and her toes tried to push her away from his grasp.

Franny felt his breath on her neck as he adjusted his grip on her. The struggle she gave made his hands slip. He began to haul her up the wooden steps and she struggled harder. Her feet only brushed against each step and she figured that was because he held her up. His arm that was across her chest moved up from her jerked movements. The bend of his elbow pressed against her throat which made breathing harder. Franny tried to push her body against his the best she could without the use of her feet, but her effort was useless. She continued to be dragged up the staircase.

Her airway was pressed in more which caused her fight to stop. Franny allowed Everett to make his way through the house with her. Her fingers grabbed at the loose sleeve of his jacket in an attempt to free her airway, but it did nothing.

"I see you finally decided to give the defiance up for a while." Everett said once they entered the kitchen. His arms moved to grab hers and he began to move her around the long island bar that marked the border between it and the family room. "Makes things so much easier. Now use your legs to walk."

Everett continued to push her down the hall and Franny complied to use her legs to help walk. She was directed to the right in a small hallway. The only door in the hall, opened, and distant light seeped through the wide crack. One of his hands released from her arm to reach past her and open the door enough for them to walk through. He didn't grab her arm again. His other dropped and she felt him step right up to her back.

"Enter."

Franny turned her head to look in the same direction as her shoulder. No way for her to slip by him and hide. She closed her eyes, sighed, then carefully entered the room. It was a bedroom. From the size of the room, she guessed it was the master room. A large bed in front of the window along the wall to her left. End table on either side. Lamps off. Dresser with mirror on the left of the bed. Two chairs and a floor lamp between on the right side. A large rug covered most of the floor. Franny turned her head to the right side of the room to find the source of light came from the cracked bathroom door. Another door near that one. She guessed it was to the closet. There was some space between the closet wall and the bedroom wall and in the space she stood. A desk only occupied it. Like a little office space. Her eyes scanned over the spacious room with worry.

' _Why did he bring me in here?'_

The door behind her closed harder than it needed to and the slam made her jump. Her arm was grabbed again with little force. Panic rose in her body when he pulled her over toward the bed. He flung her over to the mattress, her body connected with the bedspread, and she made quick work to turn around. Everett stood a few feet from her. His arms held to his sides. She watched his eyes trail a pattern over her form. She swore she felt a burn follow behind his eyes.

"Get undressed."

Her eyes bugged out from her head with disbelief at what he just said. She stood there, stared at him with large eyes, as her throat went dry. She shook her head with tiny movements. "No."

He got irritated. "I said get undressed, Franny."

Franny straightened up. Her body no longer touched the bed. "I said no."

He reached for her. He grabbed hold of her wrist and dragged her toward the bathroom. She yelped out from the pain that shot down her arm. Everett pulled the door open with too much force. He swung her body from behind his and let her wrist go. Franny stumbled to the floor. Her hands caught her upper body from colliding with the hard tile. She jerked herself around so she could face him. Franny watched as he moved to open the glass shower right next to the door; across from the connected double sinks. He turned the knobs over. Water fell from the showerhead down to the drain. His attention went back to her.

"Get. Undressed. Now."

Each word he spoke one at a time. If he would have been a snake, venom would have been present with each word. He stared at her with a deadly glare that made her body shutter. Franny scrambled from the tilt floor to stand. Her legs were shaky and weak. Franny stared at him and he stared at her. The shower still on.

"I will not."

His hand grabbed her neck faster than she could react. She didn't even see his arm move. She didn't see him move at all until his large hand was wrapped around her neck, and she was pressed against the glass shower. Her airway once against restricted.

"I grow tired of you not listening. I admire the headstrong and stubbornness you possess, but I am growing very thin in patience. When I ask you to do something, I want you to do it. No fighting back."

"I am not a child. You cannot control me!"

Franny was slammed into the glass. Her head hit hard. "You may not be a child, but I can make you do what I want, even if I have to force it."

She was pulled away from the shower. Her body placed before his; her back to his chest. Franny coughed as the air returned through her throat. Gulps of air passed down into her lungs. Her fingers rub over the skin of her neck to sooth it.

Cold hands touched her upper back. She gasped in surprise. Her dress was grabbed from the back near the zipper. The breast pulled tightly against her chest, and then suddenly it was freed. She heard the fabric rip, the zipper pulled down, and then it was forced from her body. It fell to the floor around her feet. Her waist was grabbed by both his hands and she yelped when something sharp grazed over her hip. She was lifted and placed back down after her dress was moved across the floor. Franny looked down at her burned hip to see a thin red line across the skin. A drop of her blood fell from the cut made by the knife he held.

His hands moved from around her to grab a hold of the back strap to her bra. Her body jerked forward to release his hand, but he only grabbed her arm to pull her back. His hands grabbed her bra strap again, and she saw him cut the fabric with the pocket knife he held from the mirror across from her. Soon her bra was pulled from her chest. All her strength was gone. Her body exhausted. Her arms couldn't hold it to her breasts. Her arms quickly crossed over her chest to hide herself. Her eyes stared at the floor in shame and humiliation as her underwear was cut free. Her arm was grabbed by his hand, which exposed her chest, and he forced her into the shower.

"Either you clean yourself or I will." He threatened. "And I will not leave the room." She watched through the glass as he leaned against the countertop. She covered her chest with both her arms and turned her lower body to hid herself. "I am going to sit right here and watch you."

Franny felt humiliated. She didn't want to move because if she did then her body would be exposed. A flash of light entered the corner of her eye. Her head snapped to the right to glare at him. She saw a small, silver, digital camera pointed at her.

"What are you doing?!"

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked. "That water is going to get cold soon if you don't hurry."

Franny stared at this man in shock. He expected her to take a shower with him in the room, a camera pointed to take her picture? Her humiliation and exposure felt a hundred times worse. Never before had she taken a shower in front of another man. Hell, she had never been naked before another man besides her husband.

"I meant what I said my dear." He interrupted her thoughts. "I will bathe you if you don't yourself." His voice was dangerous in tone, and that frightened her. Her hands shook while wrapped across her chest.

' _Come on Franny. Just clean yourself as fast as you can.'_ She tried to encourage her body to move. _'Get it over with then you can get dressed again.'_ Her eyes lowered quickly to the floor to find her clothing and saw they were torn beyond wearable. _'Or not.'_

Her arms reach out for the provided bottles on the shelf. She twisted her body as much as she could to allow him the view of half her backside only. The hot water fell down her body and swept through her hair. She squeezed extra shampoo into her palm so she could work all the knots free from her messy hair. She rinsed after she let it sit for a moment. The conditioner was next. A small amount rubbed into her long ebony hair. Her eyes looked over to Everett again.

Leaned against the countertop, he continued to watch her; a smug smile on his face. The camera placed down beside him.

Franny closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and forced his existence from her surroundings. She quickly grabbed the sponge from the shelf, the body wash slipped from her fingers when she grabbed it as well, and she muttered a curse. She heard a chuckle, but she ignored it. She used the wall for support as she bent down to picked up the container filled with blue soap. The soap spread out onto the eight shaped sponge. Franny wet the sponge then began to spread the soap over her body in white bubbles. The sponge swept over her very quickly. It dropped to the floor with a plop. She stepped under the shower of water to rinse both the conditioner and body wash away. Her fingers rubbed and scratched her scalp down to the end of her hair.

Her arms cross over her chest again then turned her head to look back at Everett. She saw a pale colored towel held out for her. She turned the water off before she stepped out onto the cold tile. She reached for the towel with her arms still crossed, but he jerked it away from her hand.

"Allow me." He started for her with the towel opened. "Stay still."

Franny gripped her arms tightly with her hands. Her arms pressed against her chest. Her thighs forced together as she stood there. He wrapped the towel around her small body and began to rub his hands up and down her arms to dry the water. He walked around her to face her back. The towel was removed then she felt it rub along her back. Franny moved her back to stop his touch, but he grabbed her to stop her movement. He went lower. The towel went around her stomach and down her legs. She gasped in fright.

He chuckled from behind her. "I know you're excited, but try to calm yourself."

Franny closed her eyes tightly to try and take her somewhere else. Anywhere else.

He forced her arms away from her chest to dry the water that clung to her skin. The towel was wrapped around her before he pulled her back into the bedroom. Her eyes snapped open. Everett directed her towards the bed and she fought against his hold. Her fight was weak.

"Get dressed."

Franny was released from his hold to stand at the end of the large bed. Franny saw on the bedspread a pair of her underwear set and one of her dresses. Her head snapped over to Everett.

"They were in your bag. I washed them of course." Franny opened her mouth to say something, but he interrupted her with a raised hand. "Just get dressed."

Franny didn't need to be told again. She reached for her underwear with one hand while the other held the towel. She bent over and slipped them up her legs and snug on her hips. She grabbed the bra, put the straps on her shoulders, and clasped it around her torso. The towel fell to the ground around her feet. Franny pulled the lavender dress over her head. She fixed the skirts with a single dark blue strip along the bottom. She brushed the fabric clean along her chest and fixed the dark blue turtle neck.

Everett came up behind her. She jumped. His arms snaked around her waist from behind. His chin placed on her shoulder. She heard him take a deep breath in of her hair. His nose rested at the bottom of her ear.

"Beautiful." She felt his cheek lift from a smile. "Have I told you that you are a vision in lavender?"

Franny decided to remain silent.

"Let's brush your hair. Free it of those knots." She was dragged back to the bathroom.

She stood before the mirror cleared of the fog. She saw him pick up the brush. She saw him run the bristles through the knots to free them. What she also saw was the formed bruises on the left side of her face. She was shocked to see the dark purple marks that were already formed around her eye and cheekbone. The skin was swollen and tender when her hand reached up to touch the marked skin. Both bandages had fallen off her wrists, no doubt from the shower, and exposed the darkened bruises around them. Without thought, Franny grabbed a handful of her skirts and began to lift her dress up to expose her rips. She breathed a gasp when she saw more darkened bruises on her right side.

"You made me do that you know."

Franny dropped her skirts and spun on him. Her eyes looked into his.

"If you would just behave and do as I say, I wouldn't have to mark you more than I need to."

Franny gave a gasp of disbelief. "More than you need to?"

He put down the brush and grabbed the camera from the counter. "Well I have to make Cornelius hurt. And what better way to do that than to show him the pain you are suffering."

"I told," Franny collected her thoughts and controlled her breathing, "I told you I wouldn't help you destroy him! You ask why I fight against you as if you don't have a clue, but the answer is obvious."

His face lowered towards hers. "Enlighten me, Franny." She felt his lips brush over hers when he spoke. She moved her face back.

"If you want to use me against my husband, I will not make that easy. I will give you hell and make you regret messing with my family."

She flinched when his hand flew to her cheek. His fingers laced through her wet hair and gripped. His right cheek pressed against her left which made her suck in air. His lips touched her ear while he whispered. "See that is where you are wrong. Fighting against me is only making your stay that much worse."

' _My stay?'_

"You are only helping to make your husband break down more." His lips trailed down from her ear to the spot where her dress covered her skin on her neck. She cringed. "And, the more your fire burns the more I burn inside." He pressed himself against her. Her body pinned between him and the countertop. Her eyes widened when she felt him against her hip.

Her hands grabbed a fist full of his unzipped jacket, and pushed him away from her with as much strength as she had left. His body stumbled back and his hand pulled on her hair. Franny grunted in pain before his fingers released the hair he had. She rubbed the sore spot on her head. When she looked at him again she saw the knife he had used to cut away her clothing.

"Let's save that passion for later shall we? Right now we have somewhere to be." His motioned with the knife for her to move. She did.

Everett pressed the tip of the blade against her lower back to keep her moving forward. Through the bedroom, down the small hall, back into the kitchen, and across the family room to the dining room. The plastic cover had been removed from the table and chairs. Two white candles placed on either side of a vase of flowers. Two plate sets were at each end of the table. Franny saw food on each plate and her mouth watered immediately; followed by her stomach growl. Everett pressed the blade into her back to get her to move. He held out the chair for her, and Franny sat down. He pushed in her chair. She watched him casually walk to the other end. His fingers grabbed a glass wine bottle from behind the vase of flowers. He worked quickly to remove the cork and poured some in his wine glass.

"I finally figured out what was missing from my mother's butter sauce pork chops. It took me years to get it right." He stopped pouring the drink to look at her. Franny just stared at him. Watched his movements. He gave her a smile. "It was the wine she drank. Chardonnay." He placed his glass down and made his way over to her. He picked her glass up and filled it. She told herself she would not drink it. He placed the glass bottle back down on his way to his own chair across the table.

He began to eat.

Franny watched as he picked his fork and knife up to cut into the meat before him. He stabbed the small piece he cut and chewed it. He did the same with another piece. Her eyes briefly lowered to stare at her own hot food. Pork chop, green beans, and a roll. The smell lifted up around her nose and she swallowed.

"You know," Everett's voice made her head look up again, "I thought you would have your appetite back by now. You are tiny as it is already, you'll fade away if you don't eat something." Everett ate another bite of his meat. "You're no good to me dead right now nor to your husband and son."

Franny grabbed the roll from her plate and pulled off pieces to eat. Everett made a good enough point to her that she would eat a little of something.

He shoved a fork full of green beans into his mouth and chewed. "You should try the wine. Maybe even pour a little over the pork chop. Makes it taste even-"

"Is this a game to you?" Franny interrupted.

"A game?"

"This." She motioned the diner with a wave of her hand. "Is this all a game? Kidnapping me and acting in a way as though I'm yours. Playing with me like a child would a doll. Is this your way of getting revenge on my husband? Making me turn against him? It won't happen, Everett. I can promise you that."

Everett took a drink of his wine. "No, I am merely taking advantage of our time together." He placed his empty glass back down. "And I know exactly how to get what I want from Cornelius. You are just…" He stood up from his chair. The legs _screeched_ on the wooden floor. "the needed bait to set things in motion."

Franny grabbed the arms of the chair; ready to help push herself up. "When Cornelius finds out what you have done to me, he will hunt you down. Cornelius will come looking for me and you will regret it."

Everett chuckled at her bravery. "But that is exactly what I hope for. I want him to come looking for you, Franny. It is really him I want."

Franny stared at him with grief and compassion. "Everett, you were family to Cornelius. Even before him and I became close. What happened was not his fault."

His fist slammed down on the table top. The lit candle flames swayed from the motion. "I don't want to hear any of that! I don't want to hear about those memories. And you are wrong Franny, everything that happened is because of him! I lost my job and left with this!" He removed the white bandage he had tapped to his face. Franny looked at the nearly healed burn while she stood from her chair. The back of her seat connected with the floor. The top row of her teeth bit down into her lip. "I lost my home because I lost my job. He fired me and left me with nothing but a scar."

Franny walked, slowly, to the middle of the table. Her fingers brush along the smooth, shiny wood. "Everett," she hesitated, "there was nothing Cornelius could have done. He tried to reason with the board, but his hands were tied in a knot he could not undo. He had no choice."

His fist slammed against the table again and this time he swept it across. His plate and glass flung against the wall with a _crash_. The glass shattered along the floor. "You know nothing about what choices he had! He chose to give up without a fight and let me to hang by a thread."

"I do know!" She raised her voice. "I saw how he was when he got home that night. When he told me about happened and how he had to do that to you, he was devastated! You are his best friend! Family!"

Everett grabbed Franny by her neck after she had walked closer to him. His fingers dug into her skin and his arm pushed her into the wall. Her shoulder blades and head smacked hard into the drywall.

"Best friends don't let others suffer pain like that and not care! Family doesn't abandon!" Everett screamed into her face. Loose spit from his mouth landed on the skin of her face. She struggled to breath and keep herself from shaking in utter horror. "You know nothing! And when your husband does figure out where you are and comes for you, I will be ready. I will end him and keep you as mine, or end you as well. So get used to this Franny. I will make your whole family regret crossing me!"

He removed her from the wall, his hand still firmly wrapped around her neck, then quickly pulled her down the hall. Straight to the basement door. He yanked it open, dragged her down the stairs, and flung her weak, battered body onto the mattress.

Her hand went straight for her sore, crushed neck and rubbed. Her body coughed and sucked air back into her lungs. Her eyes, filled with tears, looked up at his towered figure.

"I hope when my husband finds me he will put your ass in jail where you will rot for the rest of your life!"

Everett only smiled at her before he headed for the stairs again. She listened to him ascend them.

"You better hope he doesn't find you. Cause when he does, someone will be paying the ultimate price." The door to the basement slammed and locked.

Franny sat there on the mattress, her legs tucked under herself, hand over her mouth, and tears silently streamed down her cheeks. Her body shook with fear. She knew what he wanted to do to her family. She had to find any way to keep harm from upon them. Her eyes looked over to the broken wooden chair on the concrete floor.

' _He's going to kill Cornelius and keep me as a prize, and I have to find a way to stop that. Even if it means I lose my own to keep my boys safe.'_


	35. Chapter Twenty-Five

**I want to take a moment to thank my reviewers. It truly does mean a lot to me to hear your thoughts and get feedback. I makes my heart swell with joy that you guys like this story.**

 **I have guest reviews and I wish I could thank you each, but I can't message you it, so to the guest who has reviewed the last two chapters: Yes, I agree Everett Hudson is a drunken maniac. He is losing his mind, and I wish he wasn't taking his anger out on Franny but she isn't helping with her smart mouth and fighting nature. But if she didn't do that she wouldn't be Franny. Glad you like my writing! And thanks for the guess at where she is being held.**

 **Marvel-comic-girl: I don't remember if I messaged my thanks, but I also feel bad for Cornelius and everyone in the family. I do wish she could be found at this very moment unharmed, but that would be to easy and the story would be over too soon. Bare through and I'm sure you will either be pleased or angry with me! Hahaha**

 **Anyway...onward my lovely readers!**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Five  
Cornelius

 _Todayland: Thursday, August 27th,_ 2037

 **C** happed lips trembled when a yawn tried to force its way through their locked connection, but the mouth stayed closed. Dull, red rimmed eyes of blue lost their way in the pattern of the white ceiling above him. Brown, circle glasses placed open next to him on the comforter that spread over the king sized bed. A head full of feathery blonde hair poked into the pillows. An arm bent at the elbow, a palm between the fluffy pillow and the back of his head. He laid there on top of the bed set. Legs crossed at the ankles and other palm flat on his stomach. His body flat like a board of wood. Eyes locked on the ceiling. Thoughts jumbled like a crumpled ball of paper.

Cornelius moved his burned eyes to traced the lines of the pattern carved into the white ceiling while he sunk into his side of the bed. Body still dressed in his day clothing, he reflected on that day.

He had looked forward to that day. The second he woke up, he showered and got dressed. Ready to greet his lovely wife after her gone for days. The day he had hoped would come fast, the day he could hold and kiss his wife again, had turned from one of joy to heartbreak and destruction. The package that held the evidence of her kidnapping made him cringe. The offensive questioning by the police to both him and his son made him angry. Wilbur broken into hundreds of pieces in his arms made him miserable. His parents worry caused his heart to ache. Franny's brother's arrival home only to find her gone caused Cornelius to suffocate. He felt everyone's pain and grief harder than a rock. He blamed himself for their pain and his own. He blamed himself for her kidnapping.

And he blamed himself greatly.

In his mind, he was the one person to protect her from any and every ounce of danger. Taken the job from her older brother's, but he failed that job. She was taken because he failed. She was taken from her family. From her son. From him.

Gone.

Gone and he had no idea what suffering she had gone through so far.

* * *

"What does he mean by that, Cornelius?" _Uncle Art questioned to him._

 _Cornelius placed both his hands on his son's shoulders to offer comfort before he responded._ "Franny is," _he swallowed a lump in his throat,_ "she is, Franny has been taken."

 _Cornelius saw both Gaston and Art tensed their shoulders and a look of shock had taken their features over. Wilbur had turned his body around to bury his face in Cornelius' chest. Caleb reached a hand out to touch Wilbur's arm. Cornelius heard his son tell Caleb that it was best for him to go home and he would talk to him soon._

"Okay. I'll call you later." _Caleb headed for the front gate._ "I'm here to help in any way I can, Wilbur." _The boy left._

 _Cornelius rubbed his son's back then turned his attention to his brother-in-law's. Gaston stared at him with a new look of sadness and disbelief. Art looked at the ground, his face unreadable._

"What do you mean taken?" _Gaston was the one to speak up._

 _Cornelius held back a tear from escaping his eye._ "She was kidnapped."

"When? By who?!" _Gaston's voice rose in volume._ "Who touched our baby sister? Why didn't you call us, Cornelius?!"

 _He motioned for his son to go inside the house, and he did without a word. He watched him run up the steps then through the door. Only when he was out of sight did he turn back to face both Framagucci brother's. A locked fist came past his eyes to his cheek. Cornelius stumbled to the side when it connected with his jaw. He gasped when he straightened back up. His hand rubbed the throbbed jaw. His eyes stared at Gaston with utter bewilderment._

"What the hell, Gaston!" _Cornelius cursed._ "Why did you-"

"You promised to protect her." _Gaston shock his hand he used to punch him._ "The day you proposed to her you told us _you_ would make sure no harm would come to her. We believed you, Cornelius. Then you go and let this happen? You let our baby sister get kidnapped." _Gaston rubbed his hand with his other. Acid in his voice._

"We entrusted you with her. She has been through enough in her young life to last a life time. She did not need this to happen to her, Cornelius." _Art spoke up. His voice bitter._ "Why didn't you call us?"

 _Cornelius could not believe what they were saying to him, nor what Gaston had just done._ "You think I _let_ this happen to her? I only found out she was gone less than two hours ago!"

"You should have called the second you found out." _Gaston spat._

"I was a little busy at the time. Trying to wrap my mind around the reality of it then being questioned by the police. Asked if my wife was having an affair with another man." _Cornelius pointed to the ground to make his points clearer._ "Trying to find the rights words to tell my son so he would stop crying. So yeah, I was a little busy."

 _Art grabbed Gaston's shoulder to stop him from saying anything._ "How did this happen, Cornelius?"

 _Cornelius hung his head and ran his fingers through his hair very quickly to gather his emotions._ "All I know is that someone took her because they feel like I ruined their life. That I caused them pain and now they want me to feel that pain. The problem is, I don't know who it is nor do I know the pain they want me to feel."

"And how do you know that's what they want?" _Art questioned._

"The post office delivered a package this morning." _Cornelius pushed his glasses up his nose._ "The note inside it had that written in it."

 _Gaston moved away from both men. Art's hand removed from his shoulder. He took a few steps before he stopped._ "I don't understand."

 _Cornelius watched Gaston shake his head. He glanced over at Art only to meet his angry eyes._ "I don't understand it either, Gaston."

 _Gaston didn't answer him. He kept his back toward both of them and Cornelius could see his shoulders shake from a quiet sob._

"Where did she go today, Cornelius?" _Art asked him._

 _Cornelius crossed his arms over his chest. Jaw still throbbed._ "I haven't seen Franny since Sunday night." _He admitted. Both Gaston and Art looked at him with distress._ "A day after you two left Franny got a letter from a director of a big Symphony. They wanted her to be a guest performance. It was on Sunday night in Moorestown. We all went to go see it, and the last I saw her physically was that night."

 _Art grabbed his hips with both hands._ "And you didn't suspect anything was wrong?"

"No."

"You son of a bitch!" _Gaston started for Cornelius. He moved his body to try and stop any blow that would come. Art quickly stepped between them and grabbed Gaston's arms to hold him in place._

"Gaston," _Art grunted through his teeth,_ "not helping."

"I received a text from Franny, or suspected was Franny, from her cell Monday morning. It said she was going to stay in Moorestown for two more days. But that was the last I heard anything until today. That's when my worry for lack of communication between us was right. Whoever took her sent that last message."

 _Gaston relaxed his body and Art released his arms._ "Do the police have any leads?"

 _Cornelius turned his head to look back at the house with a look of dread._ "No." _He turned back to face them._ "They will probably want to ask you each a few questions when we get inside."

 _Cornelius turned on his heel to head back toward the front doors. He could hear the thump of their feet a little behind his. His fingers curled into his palm the longer what he wanted to say stayed locked inside. No longer able to hold it, Cornelius turn on both of them._

"One more thing." _Their attention was on him._ "I want both of you to stop thinking you are the _only_ two who have lost Franny!" _His voice was hard and filled with rage. He had never sounded like that before. Not even to Wilbur's worse mistake._ "My parents lost their daughter-in-law. Wilbur lost his mother. I lost my best friend and partner. My wife! This has effected everyone! So before you walk through that door you need to get one thing straight." _He swallowed._ "You aren't the only ones to suffer. So stop feeling sorry for only yourself and help us all get through this!"

 _Without another word, Cornelius turned his back to them and stormed into the house._

* * *

His jaw began to throb again. He lifted his hand from his stomach to massage it.

"Your jaw still hurt?"

The sudden sound caused Cornelius to sit up on his bed and stare at the doorway. A fuzzy figure stood near the wall. He quickly grabbed his glasses and stood up on the floor. His body swayed from the quick motion. He grabbed the book on his end table; ready to throw it.

"Whoa!" The voice said startled. "Whoa, whoa! Dad! It's just me! Wilbur."

Cornelius dropped his arm and the book placed back on the end table. "You scared me, Wilbur."

Wilbur crossed his arms over his stomach. "You're the one who almost hurled a book at my head. I think I'm the one who got scared."

Cornelius gave a single breathy laugh. "Yeah, well next time make yourself known." He looked at his son. His eyes were puffed and red from all his crying he had done. Around his nose was crusted snot he didn't bother to wipe away. He looked smaller to his eyes. Like he was a young child. "What's wrong? Why aren't you in bed?"

Wilbur looked at the floor. "I couldn't sleep."

Cornelius held an arm out. "Come here. Tell me what is on your mind."

Wilbur nearly ran to his fathers bed. He crawled over the silk comforter to sit cross-legged on his mother's side of the king mattress. Cornelius saw his yellow long sleeved triple T-Rex graphic pajama top was wrinkled. A sleeve pushed up to his elbow. The dark blue printed pants were also wrinkled.

"Why are you sleeping in your clothes dad?" Wilbur asked.

Cornelius looked down at his attire with a smirk before he sat down on his side of the mattress. "I haven't gotten to sleep yet."

"Why aren't you sleeping dad? It's almost four in the morning." Wilbur fiddled with his fingers. A nervous habit he picked up from his mother at a young age.

"Hang on, I'm the parent. I'm supposed to ask you that." Cornelius smiled at his son.

"I find it easier to ask you than to be asked." Wilbur's voice was no louder than a whisper.

Cornelius looked at his son with concern. "What's going on Wilbur?" Wilbur didn't say a word nor did he look up at him. He continued to twist and pull at his fingers. Cornelius locked his matched puffed and sore eyes onto Wilbur's down casted face. He reached an arm and grabbed both of his sons hands with his own to stop his fiddle. "Wilbur?"

"I don't want to sleep because I'm afraid to close my eyes." His eyes looked up to him. "Every time I close them all I see is mom. I see her standing in front of me, holding her hand out for me to take, and her crying out to help her. But when I try to get to her, she is pulled further and further away." Cornelius heard Wilbur's voice strain from the wielded tears in his eyes. "And no matter how hard I push my legs I can't catch up to her. She is gone and I wake up with screams and sweat."

Cornelius moved himself closer to his son, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He pulled his son into his side. His chin rested in his hair. "Wilbur." He whispered. "We will find her. I know you are worried and scared."

Wilbur put his face into the left side of Cornelius' chest. His thin arms securely wrapped around his waist and squeezed himself as close as he could get. "It's my fault."

Cornelius was flabbergasted and baffled at what his son just said. "Why-"

"I didn't hug her back." Cornelius grew even more confused. "The last night I saw her. She hugged me after the performance and I didn't hug her back. She left because she thinks I don't love her." Cornelius heard the anxiety in his throat and knew tears were rolled down his cheeks. He felt Wilbur's body shake every couple seconds. "It's my fault."

Cornelius pulled his son closer to him and wrapped both his arms around his body. He crossed his legs and rocked his body from side to side to calm Wilbur's shaken body. He pressed his cheek into the ebony hair he shared with his mother. "No, Wilbur. This is not your fault. Your mother knows you love her."

Wilbur sniffled in Cornelius' wrinkled vest. "I'm a horrible child dad. All I do is cause trouble and make you and mom mad at me. I say horrible things to you and about you guys when you're not around. How can you say it's not my fault she's gone? I hardly show how much I love you both." Wilbur sniffled again. "I bet you and mom wish you got a better son."

Cornelius couldn't take what his son was saying any longer. He removed a hand from around him and used his fingers to lift his sons chin. Wilbur's welded tear eyes stare up at his.

"You are the best son any parents could ask for. We love you more than anything, Wilbur." Cornelius rubbed away his fallen tears with his thumb. "Yes, you cause trouble, maybe more than you should, but you are a young teenager. You are going to get into trouble a lot, but that is a part of growing up. Your mother and I love you for who you are and we wouldn't wish you to be any different." He had released his sons chin and pulled him back into his chest. Cheek on his hair again. "You say you don't show us how much you love us, but you do Wilbur."

Cornelius felt his head shift and he guessed that Wilbur moved to look up at him. Cornelius started to sway and brushed his hand up and down Wilbur's back.

"I work all the time. Almost every day of the week. You hardly see me. Your mother is home a lot more than I am, but she also works. Either practicing with her frogs or going to the music store to teach her students. When we both aren't around you you act out to get our attention. You may go beyond what a normal teenager does, but we know why. That is how we know you love us, Wilbur, because you want our attention." Tears began to fill against the dam. "And you don't know how much we wish to be around you more like when you were younger, but we do what we must to provide for you."

Wilbur began to wiggle in his hold. Cornelius loosened his arms around him and looked up to see what he was doing. Wilbur spread his legs out. He yawned before he laid his head down in Cornelius' lap. Wilbur's arms curled up into his chest. Cornelius stretched his legs out as well then lowered his body some so his head rested on the top of his pillows. An arm went around his sons back and his hand began to rub again. His other on his own chest.

"Dad?" Wilbur's voice was quiet.

"Hmm?" He lowered his blue eyes to the top of his son's head.

"Was I a mistake?"

Cornelius stared at the ceiling again. "What do you mean, Wilbur?"

He was quiet for a few seconds. "I was born thirteen years ago, but you and mom have only been married for twelve years." Cornelius stopped his hand from his familiar path along Wilbur's back. "Did you marry mom because you guys had me? Because I was a mistake and wanted to do the thing you thought was right?"

Cornelius closed his eyes in thought. "You were in no way a mistake Wilbur. You were a surprise. I love you mother, Wilbur. She was my best friend, and I always knew she was the one for me. When we stopped talking for a while, I never forgot about her, and when we reconnected…" Cornelius tried to search for the right words. "let's just say your arrival gave me the push I needed to finally ask your mother to be mine. If our disconnection hadn't happened, then I would have asked her sooner. I married your mother because I treasure her not because it was the right thing to do."

Cornelius' voice faded out in a whisper around the last sentence. His hand had begun its rub again without his knowledge. Wilbur remained quiet. The only sound Cornelius heard from his son was the deep breathing that slipped through his nose. Wilbur had fallen asleep in his lap. Cornelius looked down at his son's head again with a smile. He missed this. Wilbur had a lot of nightmares when he was a child. Franny found out it was because he would sneakily watch scary movies without Gaston's knowledge. Every time he woke up he would rush into their room in the middle of the night, and crawl into their bed. Wilbur would put his head in his father's lap and have his mother wrap her arms around his small body. They would all fall asleep again.

Cornelius shifted his body slowly to not disturb Wilbur. He removed his glasses from his eyes and closed his lids. He allowed the room to slip away into darkness. He fell asleep with his son curled into his body.

A scream near his ear is what made his body jerk.

Cornelius snapped his eyes open to look around. They were heavy and hurt. He rubbed them with his knuckles to remove the sleep. The scream came again. His body sat up on the mattress and his glasses placed back on his nose. He swept his eyes around until they fell on Wilbur's jerked body next to him. His head buried deep into his mother's pillows. His fist had a good hold on the pillow. His legs pushed into his chest. His pajama pants bunched up his legs and twisted around them. His shirt covered in sweat and also twisted around his body. His scream came again, but it muffled in the pillow.

Cornelius reached his hand out to grab his tensed shoulder. He shook him in hope of awakening him. Wilbur only whimpered. Cornelius shook him a little harder. Again, Wilbur only cried.

"Wilbur." Cornelius said his name while he shook his body harder.

"Mom?" Wilbur's voice was muffled, but Cornelius heard him.

"Wake up, Wilbur." He raised his voice louder and shook him. Wilbur's body flipped onto his back. Cornelius saw his eyes crunched together and his face twisted in pain. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead. "Wilbur!" He grabbed both of his shoulders. "Wilbur wake up!"

Wilbur's brown eyes snapped open and he fought against his hold on him. "Mom! Mom wait!"

"Wilbur. It's me! Look at me." Wilbur's eyes looked dazed into his. Half asleep. "It's me. It's your dad." Wilbur widened his eyes and looked around the room. Wilbur let a cry out before he pressed his face into Cornelius' chest. Without hesitation, he wrapped both his arms around him, and rubbed a hand through his crazy, sweat hair. "It's okay, Wilbur. You're okay." He whispered to him. Wilbur's body, shaken from the nightmare, began to calm. "I'm right here. I've got you." Cornelius looked at the clock and saw it was near ten in the morning. "I've got you."

Wilbur kept his face buried in the vest he wore yesterday. He knew with the time, he needed to call Wilbur's school up and let them know he won't be attending for a few days. It took Wilbur a few minutes to calm himself enough for him to push away from his dad. He wiped the sweat from his face before they both climbed off the bed. The comforter wasn't used, but it was wrinkled and moved from Wilbur's jerked motions. He would make it later if he remembered.

Cornelius picked his charging phone up from the end table and turned the screen on. "Wilbur, why don't you go shower and then meet me in the kitchen? I'll make us something for breakfast."

Wilbur stood near the door. "I'm not going to school?"

"No." Cornelius shook his head then turned to face his son. "I'm going to call them and let them know you won't be going for a few days."

Both him and Wilbur walked down the hall and descended the stairs. Sat on the couches and chairs in the family room was the rest of the family. All eyes red and purple bags hung under. Wilbur's feet padded him down his own hall. When Cornelius looked back at his family, they were all stared in his direction.

"I'm going to call his school." He spoke up then walked a little from the staircase. He punched in the number for the middle school. He listened to the ring until they finally picked the phone up.

"This is Logan from the front office. How can I help you?"

"Yes, I was wondering if I could talk to your principle?"

"Of course. Let me transfer you, sir." Logan's voice disappeared and a new tone began to play in his ear. He waited. His foot tapped against the marble.

"This is Principle Stark of Todayland Middle School. How can I help you today?"

"Good morning, Principle Stark, this is Cornelius Robinson."

"Hello Mr. Robinson. What can I do for you?" Principle Stark cleared his throat.

Cornelius placed a hand on his hip and began to walk slowly around the room. "I wanted to let you guys know that my son, Wilbur Robinson, won't be coming to school for a few days. We have some family things going on."

"We heard about what has happened Mr. Robinson." Cornelius was surprised at that statement. "Please know that we are all thinking about your family and that your wife is found unharmed."

Cornelius stuttered. "Uh, um, thank, thank you Principle Stark."

Both men hung up the phone without another word.

"What is it, Cornelius?" His father spoke up. Cornelius looked over to the four members of his family that had their eyes locked on him.

"I was calling Wilbur's school to let them know, but they already knew."

Gaston moved to rest his elbows on the tops of his thighs. His fingers looped together. "The police held a press conference this morning. The news has run the story every ten minutes so far."

Cornelius moved his feet to get to the living room with the TV. He slipped past the several chairs and grabbed the remote from the coffee table. He switched the TV on and the news channel came to light. They were just wrapped up with a story about the weather, and moved to the story about his wife. He stood there and listened.

" _Wife of the famous inventor Cornelius Robinson, has been missing since, as far as we know, Sunday night. Francesca Robinson, as many knew as the woman who conducted a band of frogs,"_

Cornelius saw a picture of his wife pop up in the corner of the screen. It was a picture of the three of them. Wilbur much younger than he was now, probably three or four, sat between them. Himself and Franny had their arms wrapped around him. Wilbur's favorite stuffed animal held by an arm. A frog. All three of them had bright smiles in the sunshine.

" _But, many may have forgotten about her gift with the piano. Although she disappeared from the stage with her familiar instrument when she was a teen, she came back for a performance Sunday night. When the police questioned her family, her husband said that was the last night he saw his wife. He stated during the questioning that she was supposed to return home yesterday after discussing things with the director of the Symphony hall, but she never returned. Cornelius Robinson received a package with evidence of his wife disappearance earlier that day. Police have no leads as to her whereabouts nor who has taken Francesca, but are hopeful they will get a clue soon.'_

"How did they get that photo?" Cornelius asked his family who he knew were stood around him. His body had fallen to sit on the coffee table. "That was in our private collection."

"After the police question Gaston and I, they asked for a picture of her." Art spoke up. "It was the closest one to me at the time. They took it and left the music room after that. I made them promise to return it. I know that is one of Franny's favorites."

"I hate this." Everyone turned to face the frail voice that spoke. "I hate seeing all these sad faces. I hate hearing that Franny is gone. I hate seeing this stupid story about her on the news every ten minutes." Lucille grabbed his father's arm.

Cornelius turned his upper body to turn the TV off. He faced everyone again with the remote locked in both hands.

"I hate it too."

Everyone turned to look to the side them. Wilbur stood there in a new set of clothing and damp hair that dripped onto the shoulders of his shirt. A pair of dark wash jeans, his black convers, and a deep green t-shirt with a white faded eagle graphic. The front of his shirt was tucked into his jeans to show the buckle of his belt, but the rest of his shirt hung free. Like Wilbur started to tuck in his shirt, but grew too lazy to finish it.

"I don't like any of this either, but we have to get through this together." Wilbur said the last word while he looked at Gaston then he looked at Cornelius, but he saw his brown eyes were looking at the mark from Gaston's fist.

Cornelius stood from the coffee table and walked up to his son. He placed a hand on his shoulder and turned his body, so they could head into the kitchen across the room. "What would you like?"

Wilbur plopped down in a bar stool and twisted it so he faced him. Cornelius opened the fridge and looked inside. He glanced over all the food it held inside. Both the fridge and freezer.

"What do you know how to make dad?" Wilbur asked.

Cornelius pulled his head from the cold interior to look at Wilbur. "I know how to make cereal, cereal, and then cereal. More cereal. Oh, and toast!"

Wilbur gave a small smile and a roll of his eyes. "I'll just make myself some cereal."

"Sounds good to me." Cornelius shut the fridge doors and went to make himself a bowl with Wilbur.

Wilbur poured his bowl full of Corn Pops and Cornelius choose Honey Nut Cheerio's. They both sat down at the island to eat their breakfast. Cornelius glanced over at his son to see him stuff his food into his mouth, but Wilbur was not. Instead his head was leaned against his hand. His other held the handle to his spoon, but was just moving it through the milk.

"Wilbur. Everything will be okay. We just have to trust the police to find a lead and follow it. Sulking around isn't going to help."

He dropped his spoon. "What else is there to do dad?"

Cornelius ate another spoonful. "I'm not really sure Wilbur, but I'm sure you can think of something."

Wilbur shoved his half-full bowl of cereal away from him. "I'm not really hungry anymore. I'm going to take Buster for a walk." He stood from the stool. "A long walk." And then he was gone from his eyes. He sighed. He knew Wilbur was hurting. Probably more than any of them. He finished his bowl and took them both to the sink. He worked quickly to clean them and placed them on the drying rack next to the sink. He would let the air do the work for him. He brushed the water from his hands on his wrinkled dress pants.

He decided that he would go grab a quick shower and a clean change of clothing. He headed out of the kitchen and toward the stairs.

"Dad," Wilbur's voice caught his attention and he looked for him, "the police are here." Cornelius found Wilbur in the entry way. Buster hooked to the leash and waiting for Wilbur to take him out.

"Good morning Mr. Robinson." Chief Barry said with a slight tip of his hat. "May we speak with you? It will be quick then we will be headed out to search for your missing wife."

Cornelius painted a smile on his face. He really didn't want to talk with him, but knew it was best. "Sure. Come in." Chief Barry entered the house with four others behind him. Wilbur started to head out after them. "Be careful Wilbur." The front door began to close. "Don't stay out too late!" The door closed. Cornelius shook his head then turned his attention to Chief Barry. "What can I do for you?"

"Good lard man, you look horrible." Chief Barry observed. "Oh, forgive me. That was rude."

"I'm sure I do. I was up most of the night. Pretty sure all of us didn't sleep much to be honest."

Chief Barry motioned the four others with his head. Cornelius noticed they all held some form of equipment and headed to the coffee table in the family room. "We won't take up most of your time, but we want to set up a recording to your landline."

Cornelius raised a brow. His family had made their way into the family room. Gaston went into the kitchen. Everyone else sat down in one of the provided seats.

"Why do you wanna do that?" Bud asked.

"Well, whoever has taken Franny obviously knows Cornelius and feels like he has done them wrong. They want you to pay, Mr. Robinson. They want something from you and they might try to contact you to get it." Chief Barry explained.

"What could they possibly want?" Lucille spoke up. "Cornelius works hard to help make people's lives better. Not make them worse."

Cornelius crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm sure I have enemies out there, but I've never intentionally caused someone pain."

"What about when the accident happened at Robinson Industries last month?" Art spoke up. "From what you told us people were hurt."

Cornelius shook his head. His arms still crossed. "The internes that caused that mishap are still in prison, right?"

Chief Barry nodded.

"And Everett moved to a new city. He got a job offer." Cornelius said.

Chief Barry stepped up. "Well, whoever it is will go to lengths to get what they want."

Art leaned over to stare at the floor. His arms hung loose over his legs. "But they have my sister."

Chief Barry hooked his thumbs into the loops of his pants. "I think they are using her as bait. She isn't the target to the pain they want caused, I think."

Gaston came to stand next to his brother Art with a toaster strudel in his hand. His mouth chewed a piece of the strawberry filled breakfast. "So," he finished his food before he continued, "why would they take our baby sister if Cornelius is the target?"

Art back handed Gaston's arm. "Were you not paying attention?"

"Ow! Why'd you hit me?!"

"They think whoever took Franny is using her as bait."

Gaston rubbed his arm. "I can't believe you hit me." He mumbled. "I got that part Art. I wanna know why they didn't just go for Cornelius. Why take Franny if Cornelius is the one who needs to feel the pain?"

Cornelius pushed his glasses up his nose. He went to speak, but Chief Barry interrupted him. "We are going to do everything we can down at the station to figure that out. For now, they will be staying here with you guys until we find your wife. Every time you guys get a call on your mainline it will be recorded. I'm going to leave. Good day." Everyone watched the Chief waddle through the front door.

The other four police made their way to an area of their own.

"I already feel pain, Gaston. They took my wife from me. What more pain could they want me to feel?" No one answered him. Cornelius sighed and uncrossed his arms. He moved his body to the staircase and began to walk up. "Believe me, I wish they would have taken me instead of her." He saw his mother place her head in the crook of his father's neck. A tear rolled over her wrinkled cheek. Gaston leaned his back against the staircase and finished his toaster strudel. Cornelius took their silence with a heavy heart and continued up the stairs.

He knew a part of each of them believed what was happening to their family was his fault. Hell, Cornelius believed that more than any of them. He promised to protect her against any harm and now she was paying for his failure. He shuffled his feet along the hall to his bedroom. A much needed shower awaited him to clean and think alone until the water became freezing.

 **H** e barely registered the couch cushion beneath him. His mind was wandered over his son. Wilbur had left with Buster around ten thirty and the last time he had looked at the clock it read three something. He twisted his watch around his wrist absentmindedly. He stared at the brown shoes he choose to wear and the pair of light washed jeans that bunched over them. It felt weird for him to wear jeans. It wasn't very often he could because even on the weekends he would be called into the office, but under the circumstances he didn't have to worry about that. He could wear casual all he wanted. Even pajamas.

The rest of his family had gone off to do something else. Gaston and Art left outside and haven't come back since his shower. His mother was in the kitchen baking. A lot of baking. His father in the living room with the news channel on. The only other person in the room with him was one of the officers. He glanced over to them to see they were looked over the bagged letter and picture sent to him. Cornelius remembered the letter word for word. It still made him angry every time he thought about the words written.

"Do you actually think they will call the house?" Cornelius asked the woman across from him.

She looked up from the letter she had probably read a hundred times. "You never know." She placed both bagged items down next to the large machine that was hooked to the landline. "Usually when someone is kidnapped and they don't get what they want then they call and demand it. The problem is, Mr. Robinson, we aren't exactly sure what they want from you, so to be on the safe side we set this up on the off chance they do."

Cornelius straightened his body up and leaned his back against the couch. His head rested along the top and he closed his eyes.

The sound of the front door closing and the bark of Buster made him open them again. He saw his son walk through the entry hall after he released Buster from the leash.

"Wilbur where have you been all day?" Cornelius questioned. His body got up from the couch and headed for him.

"I went to take Buster on a walk like I said." Wilbur put the leash down on the floor. "We spent most of the time in the apple orchard near the house."

Cornelius gave a relieved breath before he placed a hand on his head and brushed it down. "Do you not know how worried I was?"

Wilbur looked at him with confusion. "Why would you be-"

"Because your mother has been taken, Wilbur. This is serious! What if they wanted to take you too? I don't want to lose both members of my own family. I wouldn't be able to handle that. I'm barely handling your mother's kidnapping, Wilbur."

Wilbur grabbed his hand in his own. "Okay, dad. I'm sorry. I won't do it again." Cornelius relaxed himself. "No one will take me away from you as well. I promise."

Cornelius pulled his son into his chest. His hands went to his back and the back of his hair. Cornelius thought about the last time he had hugged his son that much in one day. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm fine." Wilbur's voice was muffled in his t-shirt.

The house grew still.

Cornelius and Wilbur both turned to look in the family room behind them. The TV in the living room went mute.

The phone hooked to the recorder was ringing.

* * *

 **And...I leave it there.  
** **Maw ha ha!  
Review your awesome thoughts and feedback!**


	36. Chapter Twenty-Six

****Before you guys read this chapter I am giving a warning out to you. I haven't given any warnings on any of her chapter until now. I will put a * to wear it begins. I don't go into much detail.****

 ** **I am nervous to post this chapter, but it part of the story line. I had always planned for this to happen. Please don't hate me. I can take mad or upset. I'm upset even. But let me know your thoughts after and see with me to the end!****

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Six  
Franny

 _Unknown: Thursday, August 27th, 2037_

 **H** er body was slightly warmer now that she had a long sleeved dress and thicker skirts to cover her legs, but her toes were frozen. The white flats she had been wearing were now in the bathroom upstairs. Along with her torn, dirty white dress and underwear he forcibly cut from her body. She could still fell the burn from the cut along her hip that the blade caused. Her arms crossed over her chest to grab her arms and she let a shutter ripple through her body at the memory of her undress and shower before his eyes. She was sick to her stomach with shame. Her hands rubbed along the long sleeves of her dress for a moment before she dropped them. She sent her fingers to push back her damp hair. With her fingers locked together at the back of her head, hair pulled back, her mind raced with the new knowledge she had gained.

Everett was beyond drunk and couldn't be reasoned with.

He was bent on revenge and not afraid to be violent with her.

He wanted to cause Cornelius pain. Make him suffer for his wrong doing.

And Franny, Franny was the bait used to lure her husband to his end.

Franny removed her hands from her hair and sent her palm out to smack against the brick wall beside her. Her energy gone, she slumped against the bricks until her legs gave away and she was on the floor once more. She felt the ache all throughout her body, it hurt more than the time she had a broken arm, but she refused to shed another tear over herself. The main reason was she had no tears left. Her body could produce no more. Franny pulled her knees into her chest, fixed her skirts so they draped over them, and dropped her forehead in the dip between them.

How was she to protect the two most important men in her life, if she couldn't even protect herself there? Her bruised and beaten body was proof of her failed attempts of escape. Earlier she could blame it on the drug he put into her, but now? What could she say to make herself feel better? The drugs were gone from her body, but Franny wondered if her body was weak from the beatings and the fact she hasn't slept properly in who knows how long. She came to light on the fact she had no clue as to how long she has been held captive. For all she knew it could have been hours, or days since she was taken.

Franny lifted her head from the dip of her knees and racked her fingers along her scalp to remove the curtain of hair before her eyes. Her head rested against the bricks with a loud sigh. Her eyes closed and she let her mind shut down. Franny's mind traveled to her family. To her husband. To her only son. She worried if they were alright. She wondered if Cornelius had gotten the necklace Everett took from her neck. Franny grew depressed at the thought of Cornelius' panicked mind sick with worry about her. Her eyes burned behind her eyelids as she pictured her husbands paced and crumpled body.

Wilbur. The nausea swirled unrestrained in her nearly empty stomach. Her heart felt like the blood had become thick, black oil as it struggled to keep a steady beat in her chest. The hurtful thought of her son alone, the only one his age in the family, all alone to fight his way to the surface of suffocation. Franny knew the moment her son found out about her disappearance he would question things and shut down. As a young child, Wilbur never took bad news well. He could never handle it and would send his body to run away. He believed if he ran far away then the problem would just disappear. Like it never happened. That's why Franny never told him about her loss. She questioned herself if that was selfish of her to keep that from him, but would he have handled it well? No. Five-year-old Wilbur would not have handled learning he was going to have a younger sibling one minute, only to find later he was not. He would have thought the loss of her second child was his fault.

For the first time in years, Franny thought about the baby she had miscarried. Nearly two months in before she found out, and was excited to tell Cornelius. The moment he came home three days later, she told him. They had kept it a secret from everyone until the first check-up was done, but she never went to that check-up. She lost the baby, and Franny never fully recovered from that loss. She wanted to have another child, but she couldn't get past her failure to carry the one she lost.

Her heart raced. Her forehead beaded with sweat. Her eyes snapped open to rid her mind of those thoughts. She removed her fingers from her hair and used the back of her hand to wipe the sweat away. Her brown eyes turned in the direction of the wooden work table against the wall to her right. The light of the room was bright and hurt her head, but it was dull to her. Her eyes fell on the glass of water still near the edge of the table. The same place Everett set it. Her throat tightened and burned the longer she dared to look at the glass. With resistance, Franny moved her eyes away to look at something else. She saw the papers still scattered along the concrete floor from when she knocked into them. Franny used the wall behind her to help aid in standing. Her legs moved her over to the table.

The red wire basket was still there, but the filled needles that she saw earlier were not. The baseball bat pressed against the wall and the scattered tools all remained. Her long, thin fingers reached over everything to close around the bat. The wood was smooth, but splintered in many areas. Her eyes scanned over it slowly and began to think. She turned away from the table and gripped the bat with both hands. She used her upper body to swing the bat through the air. Her right arm ached when her muscles were used. The bat barely gave a swing. She dropped the bat to her side and rubbed her right arm.

' _Even if he did come back down here, I'm in no way strong enough to use this against him.'_ Franny thought sadly to herself. _'Is this how he plans to control me? By using violence to send fear into me and make it nearly impossible to sleep. No sleep. Just leave me to suffer alone, Everett. Leave me be.'_

She turned to the table to put the bat back, but the glass of water came into view again. The burn returned to her throat and she stared at it like it was a contest. She worried if she blinked then the glass would disappear. Her stubbornness fought against her mind to not drink it. She didn't need anything from him. The burn grew and it was enough to beat her mind. Her fingers eagerly grabbed the glass, water slopped over the sides, and she brought it to her lips. The water was cool as she felt it slip down her throat. The longer the water ran over her tongue the more her urge for it grew. She began to gulp it down. Little by little the water disappeared from the glass. The burn subsided.

"I see you have accepted an offer from me."

His sudden voice caused Franny to jump from her skin. She dropped the glass on the floor and heard it shatter around her feet. The water she had been swallowing went down the wrong side and caused her to cough and choke. Franny raised the bat before her ready to strike him if he got to close. He only laughed at her.

"You are a foolish girl, Francesca." Everett brought a half filled whiskey bottle to his lips. She watched him take a long drink from it before he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Her body tensed when he used the same hand, whiskey bottle held by his fingers, to push the bat out of his way so he could walk closer to her. "What do you plan to do with this?"

Franny jerked her arms so she could put the bat back between them. She took a step back to further the distance between them. "Stay away from me, Everett."

He only laughed at her again.

"I mean it! Keep your distance." Franny did her best to sound threatening.

"Or what?" He baited her. "What are you going to do with a rotted baseball bat?"

Franny hid her disappointment. She realized that even if she could gather strength, the bat would be useless to her. It would fall apart once it came into contact with him. No damage could be inflicted. "Why can't you just leave me be?" She questioned with desperation. Her body defeated from exhaustion. She was tired. She wanted to wake up from the nightmare and into the arms of her husband. "If you are waiting for my husband to follow the bait, then why do you keep playing this game with me?"

Everett took another gulp of the whiskey.

Franny felt like her body was supposed to have tears down her cheeks, but she knew they wouldn't come. "Just leave me alone until you get what you want!"

Everett grabbed the top end of the bat and yanked it from her hands. She had no strength to keep her hold on the torn grip and allowed it to be taken from her. Her only item of defense was gone and thrown onto the table. He advanced on her. Franny backed herself against the wall and was now trapped. His body was close, but thankfully didn't touch her. The stench of the whiskey on his breath nearly made the nauseated swirl leave her body, but she never let it. Franny went to slip around him, but she jumped when his hand smacked next to her head. She kept her head turn to the side so she didn't have to look at him. His larger body towered over her; made her feel small and powerless.

"But see," Everett finished off the whiskey bottle, "that's the problem. I can't leave you alone. You see, I've been thinking." He tucked her hair behind her ear. "Thinking about so many things. And one of those things is why did you choose him?"

Franny jerked her head to look up at him. "Choose who?" She asked quietly.

"Cornelius!" His voice rose, but he crunched his face up before a sigh. "Cornelius. Why did you choose Cornelius? I am just as good as he is. Just as smart."

Franny hesitated to speak. She knew he was drunk from the way he talked. She needed to make sure she said the right things. "Everett, I didn't choose Cornelius-"

Everett smacked his hand against the wall again. It ended up closer to her head that time. A finger from his free hand held before her lips and he shushed her. "Don't say his name."

Franny's body started to shake, but she wasn't positive if it was from the chill of the basement or from Everett's behavior. "I didn't choose him because he is smart. I, he is my best friend and I fell in love with him. I married him because I love him."

"Why couldn't you give me a chance?" Franny was surprised at his words. "I could have made you happy. Treated you right. Given you what you wanted." The longer Everett talked the angrier he started to sound. His body pressed into hers and her back dug into the bricks. She could no longer look at his face because of how close he was. His lips touched her forehead and she closed her eyes.

"Everett,"

She felt his lips smile. "I like the way my name sounds on your lips."

"I don't love you. Even if I would have given you a chance, I would have still married Cornelius." Franny took a chance to say what she wanted. "Everett I never meet you until you started working at Robinson Industries. And even then it was only during the company balls. I may have shared a dance with you during them, but I did because you were his closest friend."

His head moved to her neck. His lips at her ear. "I think that title has sailed. I will destroy him, Franny, and I will make sure you witness his down fall. Then when he is out of the picture, and you have nothing left to live for, I will lock you away from the world. Mine to do with as I please."

Franny's eyes widened at his threat. She wanted to cry, but her eyes refused to create tears. "Don't, you can't do that. You'll leave Wilbur without his parents! Please, just let me go, Everett. Let me get back to my baby. He needs me!" Franny pleaded with him. Her hands grabbed his jacket in her fists out of desperation. The thought of never seeing her son again, made her heart break within her chest.

 ***** "I wonder," Everett wrapped a hand around her neck, "I wonder how he will feel when he learns about another man touching you?" He seemed to not have heard what she said to him.

Franny went still. Her entire body overloaded with fear. "No, no Everett don't!" Franny began to panic. Her mind raced with many things she didn't know what to focus on. "You don't have to do this!"

The hand around her neck tightened. "Don't be selfish, Franny." And she was swung away from the wall and her body crashed to the floor.

Franny yelped when the fingers around her neck tightened and again when she was flung to the floor. Her body made a smacked sound after she collided with the cracked, concrete floor. The collision made the ache in her body worse and she could only lay there on her stomach. Both arms on either side of her head; palms flat. Her legs pressed together and one bent at the knee. The skirts of her dress twisted around her thighs from the fall. She groaned from the pain that shot throughout her body. She began to move, but her muscles screamed.

"Come here, love." She heard his voice was soft and gentle then both her ankles were grabbed.

Her body snapped back to attention at his cold touch. Her dazed state no more. She felt her body pulled back across the floor. Her skirts pushed up her thighs and the cold ground seeped into her skin. Goosebumps covered her legs. Franny dug her nails into the concrete to try and stop herself from being pulled. Gasps and fearful screams were forced from her lungs. She jerked her legs to free them from his grip, but his hold didn't break. Not a moment after she stopped sliding across the floor she was flipped onto her back.

Her eyes came into contact with Everett's. The pale gray color was rimmed with bright red and filled with determination. Blood shot from all the alcohol he must have consumed. His knees touched the ground near her legs. Both of his hands still held both her ankles and fought against her efforts to keep her legs together and break his hold. She felt his hands press down onto her thighs after he released her ankles. Franny yelped from the weight he used to keep her legs still and force his body between them. The weight he put into his hips kept her legs pinned to the ground was uncomfortable. Franny lifted her upper body from the ground and reached for whatever she could of him. Her hands tried to push him away. Her body hurt. Her body was weak, but she fought against him. Everett tried to grab her arms that continued to attack him. One of her arms were grabbed. The nails of her free hand grabbed skin on his cheek and scratched downward with all she had. She heard him grunt in pain from her attack. She had hoped he would get off her, but he still pinned her to the ground.

"You bitch!" Everett howled. He reached for the hand that scratched him. Franny jerked her arm away from his grabby hand.

Franny let breathy screams escape her mouth. She felt the wetness on her cheeks and it surprised her that her body produced the tears that fell. His hand gripped the bone in her arm and twisted her skin. Her arms lifted over her head and pinned to the floor with a single large hand. She continued to struggle against him. Franny felt his cold fingers slip under her skirts and to her hip. She tried to kick her legs to removed them from under him as hard as she could manage, but his body weight was stronger than her weak body. She heard fabric tear. Fearful gasps and yelps continued to escape from her mouth. Her body shaken.

"Everett please stop!" Franny begged through her tears and cries. All her strength from her adrenaline to protect herself was draining fast and she didn't know how much longer she could fight. "You aren't thinking clearly! You mind is clouded by getting revenge! You're drunk! You don't have to do this!"

Everett stared right into her fear struck eyes with the worst smile she had ever seen on anyone. "Oh, but I want to, Franny. You'll want this too. Just relax."

The hand that pinned her arms above her head released them. His thick fingers wrapped around her neck and tightened. Her airway was compressed. Her fingers pulled at his hand to remove it, but her fingers did nothing. She gasped for air that slipped into her lungs little by little. Black dots floated around in her vision. She blinked them and returned her focus to Everett. He towered over her. He seemed to be moving slowly above her body. She continued to pull at his hand and begged him to stop with chocked words. Everett gave her a smile and then he kissed her quickly on the cheek.

That's when every muscle in her body tensed and heard an echoed grunt in her ear. She wasn't sure if it was from her or the monster above her. Her fingers dropped from the hand around her neck and they swept across the floor beneath her. The world around her seemed to slow and prolong. Her thoughts only on her husband. His form stood before her eyes. She repeated the same word to him over and over.

' _I'm sorry. Sorry.'_

' _Fight Franny. Don't give up.'_ She heard his voice echo around her.

Franny sent her fingers around on the floor. Something hard and rectangle shaped fell under her touch. Franny gripped it with frozen fingers and turned her head back to the man above her. His body was moving back and forth above her and that caused her body to jerk against the floor. Franny clamped her teeth together and lifted her arm up. Franny wacked whatever she had grabbed into Everett's head. She heard him yell and his body fell off of her. Her throat was freed from his strong grip. *****

Franny rolled onto her side; faced away from Everett. She coughed and gasped before she pushed herself up from the floor. Her legs shook. Her thighs hurt. Her throat still felt crushed. Her breathing was rough and heavy. She held onto the object that she wacked Everett with. She held herself up on the wall while she glanced over his body. He laid there on the floor. His pants down to his knees and himself exposed.

Her entire body shook the moment she started to slip across the wall to the staircase. Her feet struggled to carry her. They twisted and tripped over themselves. Her hand worked to keep herself up. She kept her eyes on Everett, but he didn't move. She gripped the wooden rail to the staircase and started her way up them. Franny fell on the stairs when she heard Everett groan on the floor. Her head jerked his way and saw he grabbed the side of his head. His body moved to sit up.

Franny gripped the object she still held and forced her way up the stairs. Her body pushed through the rooms until she fell on the carpet of the family room. The broken leg of the chair she had used to hit Everett with slid across the floor. Her body numbed and in shock. She pushed herself up with her arms. The moment her head lifted up she saw, on the floor near the hallway, was a phone. Her heart fluttered with adrenaline. She glanced behind her to see if Everett was behind her, when she saw it was clear Franny quickly scrambled across the floor. Her fingers gripped the phone, it slipped, but she caught it. She knocked it against her ear. Her heart fluttered faster when she heard the tone on the other end. Her fingers shaken, she pressed the numbers she needed to make the call.

When she heard the ring in her ear, her body froze. Her hand tightened around the phone and she pressed it to her face.

"Come on." Franny begged desperately. "Come on, come on, come on. Pick up the phone! Pick up!"

"Franny?" The voice that came on the other end was no louder than a whisper. She didn't realize during her desperate cries that the phone had picked up. The voice she heard made her body shake and her breathing hesitant. "Franny? Franny talk to me." The voice begged her. "Please baby talk to me. Tell me where you are. Tell me who has you! Tell me anything!"

Franny snapped back. "Cornelius!" Her voice sounded frightened. "Cornelius, it's-" The phone hung up and then it was silent. "Cornelius? Cornelius?!" Franny pulled the phone away from her ear and looked up from behind the curtain of hair.

Everett held the cut wire in his hand while he smiled at her. "Now that wasn't part of the plan sweetheart, but I have to say that was fun." Everett stood up and threw the cut cord behind him. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her up from the floor. Franny screamed. He pulled her body against his and forced her to look at him. "I didn't picture our first time to be that way, Franny. Shame, really. I could have made you feel great. Love you the way you deserved." He leaned into her ear. "But I can't wait to see the look of his face when he finds out he is not longer the only one to touch your skin."

Franny could no longer see anything straight. Everything faded in and out of focus until darkness engulfed her vision and then her body. Her muscles loosened. Her body went limp and her legs gave out from her weight. Her body crumbled and the world around her disappeared.


	37. Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven  
Wilbur

 _Todayland: Thursday, August 27th, 2037_

" **C** ome on, come on. Pick up the phone! Pick up!"

Wilbur was held by his dad. Both of his larger hands gripped the fabric of his t-shirt and held his smaller body before his. A few inches between his back and his father's chest. Wilbur had an arm across his torso that gripped his lower ribcage. This other rested upon it with the elbow and his thumb nail clapped between his teeth. All of his family had gathered around the large recording machine in the family room and listened to the conversation that replayed between his mother and father.

"Franny?" Wilbur heard his dad's voice come through with a disbelieved whisper. Everyone in the room, his grandparents, uncles, father, and Carl, all heard the harsh, hesitant breath of his mother. Wilbur locked and unlocked his knee while he stood there with his ears strained to listen to the phone call for the second time. "Franny? Franny talk to me." His father's hands gave a hard squeeze of his shoulders then relaxed them. "Please baby talk to me. Tell me where you are. Tell me who has you! Tell me anything!" Wilbur heard the desperation in his rough voice.

"Cornelius!" His thumb was released from his locked teeth when she said his dad's name. Frightened and relieved. "Cornelius, it's-" Her voice was cut off.

"Franny?" His father's voice pleaded. "Franny?! No!"

A grunted scream and then a loud bang played through until the recorder stopped. When his mother was disconnected from the phone his father grew disheartened and frustrated. He knocked the phone off the table and unplugged it from the recording machine. Wilbur heard the _'click'_ of the machine and the room grew quiet.

Wilbur looked at the expressions each member of his family had. Everyone looked like statues; unmoved from their spot. To anyone else, they would all look the same, but to Wilbur each one was different. Both his grandparents had worry in every wrinkle present on their face. Gaston had hate that colored his eyes, but Wilbur didn't know what that hate was directed at. Art just stared at the machine placed on the coffee table with pain and loss. Carl kept his eyes on Wilbur and when they both looked at the other, Carl could only look defeated. Wilbur knew he was at a loss of how to help the family he's been a part of for years. Wilbur twisted his upper body and his head to look up at his dad. His blue eyes looked down to him, and he saw the blue eyes were glassed over behind the circled rims. His father had many emotions on his face. His eyes held pain. Over all his dad looked utterly broken.

Wilbur turned his body to face forward again, but he could only look at the floor. The silence of the room began to close in on him and Wilbur felt suffocated.

Gaston crossed his arms over his chest and looked around at everyone until he glued his eyes to his father. He broke the awkward silence. "How does this help us? She barely got to say anything before the line went dead."

"I bet the son of a bitch that has her ended the call." Art growled.

Wilbur saw Gaston didn't remove his eyes from glaring at his dad. "So this call is useless to us."

Wilbur felt the squeeze of his shoulders again. "Not entirely."

"What could you mean by that Cornelius? We still don't know anything. This gave us nothing new to work with." Art finally tore his gaze away from the coffee table and over to him and his dad.

His hands disappeared from Wilbur's shoulders entirely, and he stepped from behind him. "We know that she is still alive. We should all be relieved at that."

"Yeah she's alive, but for how much longer?" Art muttered.

Wilbur looked at his youngest uncle with surprise. "Why would you ask that? I would think mom being your younger sister you and Gaston would be the most hopeful of her being found alright and alive. Why let those dreadful thoughts into your head?"

Art didn't change his tone of voice when he spoke to him. "Listen Wilbur, this isn't some fairytale where something minor happens and then everything comes to a happy ending. This is real life. Real people are involved, and I've seen many shows about cases like this. They can kill her Wilbur. I know you know this and I also know you ignore it, but you need to prepare yourself for any outcome."

Wilbur felt a hand touch the top of his head and fingers run through his short strands to the back of his head. "Art." His dad's voice was hard. "Don't frighten him more than he already is!"

"He needs to understand that-"

"He is a thirteen-year-old boy! Thinking and preparing of the possibility that his mother could be killed is not the right thing to do."

Art pushed himself up from the couch and stepped forward in their direction. "It is the truth Cornelius. You can't lie to him about this."

Wilbur started to shake his head in the slightest of movements. He started to feel suffocated again in a room too large for that to really be possible. He looked at his dad then to Art. Back and forth between the two family members.

' _Stop it.'_

"I'm not lying to him about any of this! I don't want my son to think of losing his mother that way! If you had kids Art, you would understand that!"

Art looked at his dad with a hard expression to match the one Cornelius wore. "So if they decide to kill her, you want Wilbur to be unprepared for it? Keep him in the dark?"

' _Stop it.'_ Wilbur looked at everyone else in the room. Everyone had a form of concern for the bickered argument between them, but they all remained in their spot. Only watched to see how it would play out. Wilbur crushed his eyes shut to block their faces out and continued to shake his head faster this time.

"Wilbur is well aware of what is going on here Art!" Cornelius sounded pissed, and Wilbur knew it. It was the same voice he used when he had done something really bad. "My point is I don't want you putting those thoughts in his head. None of us need to think about Franny that way until it either happens, or whoever has her makes it known."

"Stop it!" Wilbur's voice burst through the room. His eyes snapped open. His shout interrupted the bicker. All eyes in the room turned to look at the youngest member. "Stop it, stop it!" His hands balled into fists at his sides. "Just stop it! Give it a rest."

His father lifted his hand from his hair. "Wilbur-"

"No!" Wilbur jerked his body away from his dad and glared at him. "This is enough." His chest puffed and deflated with heavy breaths. He felt his heart race in his chest. "Don't you all see what is happening? This is tearing us all apart. Dividing the bond that holds our family together. Trust." He looked over everyone and saw they each understood. "We can't let them win by breaking us apart." He turned his head to his father and uncles. "If mom were here I know she would be disappointed in you three."

All three of them looked at the thirteen-year-old with astonishment. "Hey, I'm not in this." Gaston spoke up.

"Uncle Gaston the moment you came home and found out what was going on you blamed my dad and then punched him the second I was gone." Gaston rubbed the back of his neck with guilt. "You three have been at each other's throats since this happened. If mom where here and this was someone else, she wouldn't let this happen. She would keep us all together like a family should be. Mom would not want this. I don't want this. My mom is gone, and I'm handling that the best way I know how. But," Wilbur swallowed the lump in his throat, "I _cannot_ handle everyone at odds with another."

"Wilbur is right. You three need to stop this." Lucille spoke up to support his statement.

"This arguing and blame pointing is not going to help Franny." Carl said while he made his way over to Wilbur.

Lucille grabbed Bud's hand in hers and looked at her son. "We all know she is alive and Cornelius is right, we should be relieved at that."

Wilbur finally release his fingernails from the soft skin of his palms and flexed them out then back in. He mouthed a thank you to his grandma, got a smile in return, and turned his body to head for the front doors. A hard hand grabbed onto his shirt and made him turn back. Carl's golden face looked at him with no hint at what he was doing. What he wanted. Wilbur looked down at the hand he had on his shoulder and removed it with his own. He returned it to his robot friend with a shake of his head. Wilbur turned his body back to the front doors and walked. His legs carried him quickly through the hall and down the steps of the porch. He didn't bother to close the front door behind him. He left it open and headed along the path. His legs took him away from the house, but not off the property. He didn't know where he was headed, but Wilbur found he didn't care all that much. He just wanted to walk. He just wanted his heart to stop its race.

The sunlight that surrounded the world around him was bright and warm. The chill of the August breeze didn't bother him while the sunlight kissed his skin. The sunlight did bother his eyes and made him squint while he walked through the grass. He walked around the shaped bushes that covered the grounds of his home. He let the leaves scratch over his arms when he passed by. He slithered around the colorful, trampoline sponges, then just headed straight. He scuffed the tips of his shoes in the grass every once in a while as he continued to let his legs move. By the time Wilbur lifted his head from the ground he found himself surrounded by trees. Rows of trees that were placed in lines. Wilbur ended up in the apple orchard a little way from his house.

He stood there between two of the many rows of apple trees.

Every tree that surrounded him wasn't like all the bushes or flowers you would see around his home or around the city. Those plants were in the ground, but the trees around him were not. They floated above it. The trees also hung upside down. The roots pointed up toward the clear blue sky and were encased in a large oval, dark red case. The dirt and nutrients were inside there to keep the trees alive, and on the top of that was a glass funnel that held the water. When it detected the soil was dry it would release water and stop once it was damp. Wilbur wasn't quite sure what it was that made the trees float above the grass, but he didn't waste time to figure it out.

He moved his legs over to the closet tree and stood before the leaf covered branches. Fallen apples around his feet. He lifted himself up to his toes, had his arm extended out, to reach a bright red apple connected to a branch. He plucked it free then fell back to the flat of his shoes and looked the fruit over. He used the loose part of his shirt to wipe the apple off then opened his mouth. Teeth punctured the peel.

"Wilbur?"

Wilbur twirled on his feet to face the direction the voice came from. His mouth was wide open around the apple. Teeth sunk into the skin, ready to bite the piece off. Wilbur removed his mouth from the fruit and used his arm to wipe the juice from his chin. He saw the teeth marks in the apple before he looked back to his dad.

"Hey dad." He spoke quietly.

He watched as his dad slipped his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans and rocked from his toes to his heels. "I figured I'd find you out here. This was your favorite place to play with your mother as a child. Wide open. Plenty of trees to hide in. Far enough to get away from people and problems." Wilbur fiddled with the apple in his palm while he bent and straightened his knee again. "Hey, no hard feelings Wilbur. I know that fight between me and your uncle was upsetting for you. I understand the need to get away."

"I didn't really think about where I was going." Wilbur admitted. "I just sort of ended up here."

His dad gave him a soft smile. "That's not anything new to me. You've done that since you were a child."

Wilbur raised a brow to show his confusion. "Done what?"

"You believe that if you run away far enough from the difficulty you're faced with then it will go away. It was really bad when you were five and six years old. Every time another child gave you a hard time at your school, you would run."

Wilbur looked down at the apple in his hand and refused to blink. "Yeah, I guess I just do better when I'm alone and can think straight without the pressure of others." Wilbur tightened his grip on the apple and closed his eyes. "I always felt like I was drowning and no matter how hard I kicked my legs I never surfaced. Just like I feel right now." He chucked the fruit over his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry Wilbur." He heard his dad say. He turned himself to look at him again. "I know I'm not helping with that matter. I seem to be making it worse on you."

"It's fine, dad. I know that everyone is on edge and anger has to come out somehow." Wilbur gave the smallest of side smiles. "I do feel a little better knowing that mom is still alive."

Cornelius gave a smile back to him. Just as small as he probably had. "I feel a little better knowing that too Wilbur."

"I just wish the call lasted long enough so she could tell us where she is. I want her to come home." Wilbur dropped down to the grass. "I don't like just sitting around and waiting for something to happen. I feel like I could be doing something to help find her."

"I think we all wish that Wilbur." He hadn't noticed his father walked over to him and sat down in the grass next to him. Wilbur didn't look up to his dad. He only started to pull blades of grass from the dirt one by one then let them fall back. "Have I ever told you how I got the idea for this invention?" His father spoke after a few moments of silence.

Wilbur lifted his eyes to see his father motioned to the apple trees. Wilbur shook his head, pulled more grass, and remained silent. He dropped his eyes back to the ground.

"Well," from the corner of his eyes he saw his father stretch out, "I knew this young kid. He really liked to draw his feelings out in pictures instead of speaking words. And I noticed in almost every picture that had trees they would be upside down. This kid, I don't know why, would always draw his trees upside down no matter what people told him. So, it got me thinking." Wilbur lifted his eyes to his father again. "Would it be better to have trees upside down? It didn't take me long to find good enough reasons and come up with a way to give them the water and nutrients they needed to live. The board loved the idea."

Wilbur opened and closed his mouth several times. His father didn't turn his head to look at him during his story, nor after he finished. He kept his eyes on the sky. Wilbur opened his mouth again, but he couldn't form words.

His father finally looked over to him. "I also remember a certain little boy loving it when I showed him this very orchard. Not even five seconds in before he was climbing into the branches and asking his mother to find him."

Wilbur moved his eyes to look over the row of trees before him. "It seems," Wilbur hesitated, "I haven't climbed in these branches in a long time."

He heard his father sigh. "Yeah, I miss those days when you were little." He said softly.

Silence filled the space around them again. Wilbur went back to plucking blades of grass from the ground to occupy himself. A small pile began to build up where he dropped the pulled grass. He leaned forward and to the side to pull handfuls of grass from the dirt and into the piled he had worked on.

"You've been out here for a long while Wilbur. Do you want to stay out here or do you want to go back inside?" Wilbur didn't turn his eyes away from the grass he continued to pluck. "It's up to you."

Wilbur took a moment to pull a handful of grass from the dirt and crushed it in his palm. He used his father's shoulder to help aid him in standing. He pushed his body up and opened his hand out so the grass would drop. His father looked up to him.

"I guess we can go back to the house. See if the police have returned from the station." Wilbur wrapped his hand around his fathers to help him stand, and once they both wiped the dirt from their pants they walked side by side back toward the house. "Why did the police bolt out the door after mom called the house?"

His dad shoved his hands into his front pockets. "I think they went to inform the chief, but I'm not really sure kiddo."

They both fell silent again.

Wilbur followed closely beside his father while they trudged up the hill and back toward the line that marked their property. He scuffed the tip of his shoes against the ground again, and noticed the dirt stains he got on them. Those were the new pair of convers he and his mother bought last week when they went to the shopping center.

' _Had it really only been last Tuesday since we've gone? A week since summer ended? A week since I saw that man staring at mom? A week since school started?'_ Wilbur was amazed at how much could happen in only a few days. And several things had happened to his family since that Tuesday.

His father placed his hand on Wilbur's back and that motion only caused him to stop walking. His mind was still deeply wrapped in his own thoughts. He hadn't even noticed they reached the front doors, and that was why his father touched his deep green shirt. He hadn't noticed his feet carried him deep into the house. Through the entry hall and into the family room. His body slumped into a vacant chair that was placed between the two staircases. His arms hung over the arms of the chair, his legs spread out with his feet flat on the marble, and he let a sigh out. He closed his eyes and let his mind empty.

"We weren't able to get a trace from the call." A voice familiar to his ears spoke out. He didn't really care enough to open his eyes and listen to the voices of his family. "The duration of the call wasn't even fifteen seconds long. If she had been able to stay on longer we might have had an area to search."

He heard an echoed _bang_ , but he still didn't open his eyes. He only focused his mind to pay half attention to the conversation that circled around him. The other half of his mind reflected on things he wished it wouldn't.

"So we are no closer than before?" The voice was deep and Wilbur knew it was Uncle Art who spoke.

The room was quiet for only seconds.

"It's so frustrating." He heard his Uncle Gaston exasperate from somewhere close. "I wish we had more information."

' _So many things could happen in such a short time, and they can be wondrous. But what is happening to my family is nothing short of devastating.'_

"I think we all wish we had something to go on, Gaston." Art sighed.

' _The dreaded shopping trip with mom last Tuesday. The creep who stared at her while we checked out was weird. What color were his eyes again? Blue or gray? Oh and don't forget that he was the cause for you to destroy the house and get into trouble with your parents.'_ Wilbur chewed on the inside of his lip. _'Okay, so I can't really blame that on him. I did that myself, but at least I didn't get grounded for it.'_

"Has no one come to mind at who it could be, Cornelius?" Carl pipped up close to his ear.

Wilbur didn't hear his father answer and he guessed that maybe he was in thought or gave a shake of his head. "No one. I haven't the slightest idea at who it could be. I can't imagine anyone who would go to such lengths to cause me pain."

' _What was the next thing to happen? Oh right, dad's work got broken into and Bobby was killed. Wasn't that the night I saw someone outside my window? No, I think dad was right about it being my mind playing tricks from the nightmare. First the creepy guy at the shopping center then the person who killed Bobby. That was a fun week.'_

"-think there could be more than one person behind this, Mr. Robinson?"

"I honestly don't know." He heard his father admit. Wilbur knew his father was at a loss for answers, because never had he said 'I don't know' more than once in the same conversation. His mind seemed to stop digging in his brain and he was able to relax in the chair, and just listen to his family.

"You said that you believe your wife was taken after the performance Sunday night? When she was walking back to her hotel room?" He heard the familiar voice speak again. Wilbur peeked and eye open to see if he was correct at who it was. It was Chief Barry. He closed that eye again.

Wilbur heard the tap of shoes on the marble floor and a sigh after. "Yeah, that is my theory. They hinted at it in the letter they sent and she is still wearing the dress she wore for the performance on the picture. I don't think she got a chance to change before they went after her."

"But Franny is a fighter." His Uncle Gaston's voice was filled with confusion and suspicion. "Franny has taken karate since she was six. She has brought down boys that are more than half her size. She wouldn't have let them just take her from the hotel that easily." Gaston said.

"Although that is true Gaston, they could have been waiting for her in her hotel room. They probably came up behind her and surprised her." His Uncle Art offered for an explanation.

"But even then, Art." Gaston argued back. "She would have taken them down in a few seconds."

Wilbur heard someone clear their throat before they jumped into the conversation. Wilbur thought it was the Chief until the voice spoke. "I find that questionable to. There is no way she would have let someone touch her long enough to take her." His father said.

"They could have drugged her." Art suggested. "Pressed it into her airway. Weaken her. I mean that is the most common way to kidnap someone right, Chief?"

He didn't hear the Chief answer and guessed he used his head to answer.

' _Drugged her?'_ Wilbur repeated to himself.

"If that is true, then," Lucille's confused voice finally entered the discussion, "they must have known she was going to be there."

"How would they have known she was there that night?" His father asked everyone in the room. "I mean, unless they lived in that area or they stalked her beforehand and found her letter, then I don't see how it's possible."

' _Drugged her. Robinson Industries. Accident a month ago. Drug exploding. Stalking. Man in the shopping center. Man outside my window. Drugged her. Drugged her'_ Wilbur's thoughts raced inside his head as fast as his heart beat in his chest. His eyes flew open and his body sat up in the chair. His fingernails dug into the fabric around the arms. "They were." All eyes in the room shifted to him. Wilbur was the center of attention. Spotlight shined on him. He saw everyone was still in the same positions except his father. He was the one to cause the tapped sound before he sat.

"What was that, Wilbur?" Gaston asked him.

Wilbur swallowed a lump and cleared his throat, but his words came out in a breathy whisper. "They were following her. But I don't think it's a them. I think it's a _him._ A single person." His words came out fast and jumbled.

His father and everyone else in the room, including the police, all looked at him like he had gone crazy. "What are you talking about Wilbur? Why do you think that?"

"Last week."

His father raised a brow in a way Wilbur knew he needed to explain better.

"Last week, do you remember what I told you about the shopping trip?" Wilbur asked him.

His father scoffed. "How could I forget that? You destroyed my house that night."

"Okay, not what I want you to focus on. Do you remember the reason behind it?"

"You mean the man you saw?"

"Yes!" Wilbur said loudly. "The man I saw. I remember how he looked at her. His eyes. Like there was so much hate swimming in them. Then the break in at Robinson Industries later that week. They stole only one thing right?"

Cornelius straightened his back. "Yeah, they stole the failed drugged."

Wilbur raised a brow. "Mhm, and you guys said he probably drugged mom to take her easier? Then I wake up and see the figure of someone standing outside my window? Dad," Wilbur scooted to the edge of his seat, "I think it's one person. The _same_ person. The man in the shopping center. The man who broke into Robinson Industries. Standing outside my window, and the man to kidnap mom. I think the same person did all of it. He probably stalked the family to learn what he could to find the time to strike at you, but he must have saw mom was easier to get at. So he took her and now he's using her against you."

Everyone stared at the youngest member of their family. They all seemed to consider his theory before they all looked at him again.

"Wilbur," he could see his dad was about to reason with him, "that is a little farfetched, don't you think?"

"Actually," the chief interrupted the words that were about to leave his mouth, "your son might be on to something."

"Think about it for a moment, dad." Wilbur pleaded. "It's the only thing that makes sense. He stalked our family to find the perfect moment to act. He broke into your company and stole the only thing that knocks someone out. Then mom gets kidnapped? I don't think it's farfetched."

Every member of his family looked to someone else. His father looked at him.

"I believe your theory Wilbur. It does seem to hold weight." Cornelius pressed his fingers into his forehead. "It gives us a possible how, but it doesn't give us a who or a where."

"Well, we can probably conclude it's someone who works for you, dad. They knew their way around the company. They avoided detection until the last second. It's someone who knows you personally and the grounds of our home because none of us knew he was here." Wilbur pointed out.

"Yeah, but I have hundreds of people who work at Robinson Industries. It could be anyone. They all know me, and they could have mapped out our home during one of the many company balls I've hosted here. There is no telling who has a grudge against me because everyone during the day seems to be perfectly fine."

The sound of the blared doorbell echoed around everyone. Wilbur was the first person to move. He pushed his body free from the chair and started for the door. He spoke a muttered _'I'll get it'_ before he took his first step. The closer he got to the front doors the louder he could here Spike and Dimitri arguing over the doorbells. He pulled the door open and stood there surprised at the person he saw.

"Caleb?"


	38. Waiting

Waiting

 _Todayland: Thursday, August 27th, 2037_

 **I** shift my weight so my shoulder presses into the chain-link fence around the front parking lot of the middle school. I untuck my arm from the crisscross over my chest, and look at my wrist to the leather strap watch clasped around it. It seems like it has been the hundredth time since I have looked at it in the last five minutes. In the distance, I can hear the speaker buzzing with a voice I care nothing for to listen to the words it says closely enough. In my ears it sounds like a bee that is trapped and constantly flapping its wings. I drop my arms and shove my hands into the front pockets of my jeans.

I wait.

I wait for him.

I know the route he takes to get home after his classes are finished for the day. I have paid close attention to him and the other teen boy while they walk home together. I know he will walk across the front parking lot then make his first left. Follow down the sidewalk through the city. Make a few turns in both directions then into one of only two neighborhoods. His home the third on the right.

The annoying blare of the school bell interrupts the map I follow in my head. I move my head to look at the front of the school, past all the parked cars, and see a few students exit from different directions. Cars parked in a line from the student pickup, parents ready to take their children home, and I watch as the first child climbs into a car thus starting the line to disappear. I stay in my spot, leaning against the fence. I keep my eyes scanning the growing crowd of young teens that file out in larger groups into the parking lot. Many start to pass me, not even bothered to look away from their friends, or up from the phones they press quickly with their thumbs. I go unnoticed, but I don't care. None of them were the boy I was looking for.

More and more walk past me. The crowd seems to be growing bigger and bigger, and my eyes strain to search fast enough to spot the boy I needed to help me with my revenge. As the crowd began to disappear from the parking lot and down the sidewalks in both directions, I watch from my shady spot ready to spot the boy I needed.

I would just head over to the Robinson mansion and deliver the message myself, but that blasted Cornelius has police over there every second since I gave him that package. It fills me with much joy to know he suffers from what I have taken from him, but the pain he feels about her kidnapping isn't enough for me. I need him to feel what I felt. To feel his whole world come to a sudden stop and then end. I will make that happen.

I look through the dark tint of my sunglasses to the decreasing crowd and briefly wonder if I had missed him, but when I see the bright color of his backpack I sigh in relief with a smile.

The blonde haired boy held his bag by one strap on his shoulder. His other wrapped around two school books that rested on his hip. A pair of his own sunglasses cover his eyes to shield against the sunlight. The bright green of his bag made it nearly impossible to look away from him. When his legs carried him closer to where I stood, I notice the white headphones plugged into his ears. He made his way past me and down to the left without a glance my way.

Before he got too far away, I remove my shoulder from the fence and follow behind him. His legs carry his body along the sidewalk, backpack bouncing on his back, and books dropped to hang at his side. There is a jump in his step and I guess it is from the music he is listening to. The further he walks, and I follow, he starts to dance his way. A loud hum in his throat while his body begins to sway. He moves his feet to the beat of his song that I cannot hear. I tilt my head as I watch him. His body starts to move from side to side, his arms rise into the air, and his feet tap to a rhythm along the sidewalk. He stops, crosses his legs and spins his body around.

His body jumps in surprise. The smile on his face becomes like an oval from shock. His hands remove the headphones from both ears one after the other then bundled them up in his hand. I can hear the beat of the music through the tiny speakers until he hit the microphone and volume control to pause the music.

"Sorry, Sir." He said. "I didn't know anyone was behind me. I hope I'm not blocking your way." The boy stepped to the side and tilted his head to offer me a clear path. "Would you like to pass me?"

I held a palm out. "Not at all, kid. I was actually following you."

The boy drops his smile and stuffs the headphones into his jean pocket. "Do I know you?" He asks me hesitantly and takes a tiny step away from me.

"Noels? Caleb Noels, right?" I ask him with a calm voice. I am almost positive this was the right boy. The one I have seen hanging with the Robinson kid.

The young teen lifts the sunglasses from the bridge of his nose and pushes them back into his dirty-blonde hair that seems more blonde in the sunlight, and less brown. "That depends on who is asking. I'm pretty sure I don't know you." He lowers his lids in suspicion.

His pale green eyes search over my face. The black, dark tinted sunglasses that still cover my eyes. The stained baseball cape I have over my hair and the lip pulled down as far as it will go to cover my face. I give a small smile at the conformation I got to know he is the right boy. The sting in my cheek from the healing burn stung, but not nearly as much as when I first got it.

I swing my arm out and wrap it across his chest to make his body turn. His back pressed into my stomach and chest. I heard the _thunk_ of his school books hitting the concrete. His school bag pushed down to the bend of his elbow. Both of his hands grab onto my arm to try and pull it off in the same way Franny has tried to do every time I have grabbed her. His body jerked around and forced grunts exit is lips. He kicks his legs out to try and wiggle himself out from under my arm, and I tighten my grip. I put my lips to his ear.

"Stop your struggle." I growl to him. "I'm not going to harm you. I just need your help with something."

Caleb placed his feet back on the ground. "Why would I help you?" He spat. His friendly and polite manner gone.

"I think you will if you don't want to be an orphan." I said to him and he instantly froze. "How is your father? I heard he replaced the poor guard that was killed at Robinson Industries. The one who was shot? What was his name again?" I pretended to think. "Oh that's right, Bobby. It'd be a shame for your father to end in the same fate."

Caleb still didn't move in my grasp. "You," his voice was stumbled and quiet, "you're, you are the one who killed that guard?"

I don't answer him. I leave the question to linger in the air and blow away in the breeze that rippled my t-shirt. "Now," I use my free hand to slip the small, white envelope from my back pocket and brought it around to his face so he could see it, "I need you to deliver this to the Robinsons for me. It is vital they get this as soon as possible."

"Why do you need _me_ to give that to them?" Caleb spat. "Why don't _you_ take it to them yourself?"

I sighed in annoyance. "I would, but that damned Robinson has police parked around his house all day and night. I can't get close enough without being spotted."

"If it's as vital as you say it is, then it must have something to do with their missing family member? Wilbur's mom?" Caleb spat. "I don't see why you don't take it yourself. If you have information then you should tell them, Sir. They are very worried and concerned for her, and want to find her as soon as possible."

I smiled. "Yes, yes I'm sure they are and that makes me extremely happy to know that Cornelius suffers. But it is not enough." I remove my face from his ear and I shove his body to the ground. His hands reach out to catch himself, and both his palms and knees scrape along the hot concrete. I hear the grunt from his mouth. "Now, since you are the brats friend you can be the one to give them this last message from me." I flick the envelope from my fingers and watch as it dances to the side of him.

The boy got to his feet, grabbed the envelope, and stumbled down the sidewalk in a race. His bag still in the bend of his elbow and it swung in so many directions as he gets further away from me. I don't move from my spot. He doesn't look back at me, not once. Not even before he turned to head in a new direction.

With a smile on my lips, I twist my body around to head in the opposite direction Caleb did. I slip my fingers into the front pockets of my jeans and my feet move inch by inch to carry my body further.

* * *

 _Unknown: Thursday, August 27th, 2037_

 **I** hold the bottle with my fingers and it hangs over the arm of the plastic covered couch. I swirl the dark liquid around in my mouth and feel the burn as it slides down my throat. I smack my lips a few times before I lick them with my tongue. I lap up a few drops that rest on the skin of my lips and return my eyes to the woman who is laying on the couch opposite of me.

Her back pressed into the soft fabric of the sofa. Her head rests on one of the throw pillows and her arms pressed together by her wrists, rope back around them, and they rest beside her turned head on the pillow. Her legs slightly bent at her knees and pressed together. The skirts of her lavender dress pooled around her and hung over the edge of the couch cushion. Her eyes closed. Her breathing even and slow. Her body relaxed.

Franny has been asleep for some time now. She hasn't even moved between the time I put her there through the time I came back from the city. I smirk and continue to look my eyes over her inch by inch. She looks so beautiful and peaceful when she sleeps. I actually get to enjoy the view she gives while she rests. Every other time she is shielding herself or screaming at me. So unladylike. I wonder to myself how Cornelius puts up with her stubbornness, but then again it is rather attractive on her.

Her arms jerk in a tiny movement and a soft groan slips into the air, but she doesn't wake up. I take another gulp of the whiskey in the glass bottle. I swallow and drop it back down.

' _Soon. It will all be soon. Cornelius will figure out the clue I gave to them, and he will be on his way to save you my dear.'_ I lift the corners of my lips to give myself a smile. _'What is inside that last message, Franny, will break Cornelius' heart in two, and then I will make sure it stops completely. The moment he tries to get you.'_

I tilt my head and bottle back. The dark liquid slivers down my throat.

' _I'll be waiting Cornelius. Waiting for our game to finish. The field is yours. I'll be waiting for your move.'_

* * *

 **Ah! What on earth could happen next?!  
Figured out where Franny is being kept yet?! What is inside that envelope he gave to Caleb?  
Let me know what you think! Until next chapter! Review your thoughts and answers.**


	39. Chapter Twenty-Eight

**Hello my lovely readers! This chapter is personal to me. I cried the entire time I wrote the second half. I know what it is like to lose one's mother, and I made this deep in the feelings I felt when I lost mine.**

 _Guest Reviewer: Glad it was a good chapter for you to read! I know Caleb could have done more, but he is a different character from Wilbur. Caleb is a shy, keep to himself kind of kid. Not one to make quick decisions. He was frightened when his father was threatened. His dad is the only family he has left. So he's a cautious and rational kid. Wilbur is the impatient, impulsive, and irrational kid. That's why they get along. :D_

* * *

 _For my best friend  
_ _For Marie  
_ _For my mother  
I love and miss you._

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Eight  
Wilbur

 _Todayland: Thursday, August 27th, 2037_

 **W** ilbur stood in the middle of the doorway. His arm locked straight to the side of him, level with his shoulder, and his hand wrapped around the door to hold it open. He looked at the teenage boy who was bent over, hands placed on his thighs, and every breath that left his lips was wild.

"Caleb?" Wilbur spoke the boy's name, who has become his only friend since school started, again.

His friend lifted a single finger up into the air to signal Wilbur to give him a moment, so he could catch his breath. He placed his hand back onto his thigh. Wilbur tilted his head to the side slightly as he took in Caleb's appearance. The front of his orange and white stripped t-shirt was covered in sweat around the collar as well as under both armpits. There were holes in his jeans that exposed both of his knees. Blood stained the light fabric that was torn and lines of red ran down both legs of his jeans, and dotted until they stopped completely. Wilbur's head tilted more in a curious nature at the state of his scrapped knees. Caleb's breathing had calmed down a bit and his body straightened from the hunched position Wilbur had opened the door to.

Before Wilbur opened his mouth to speak again, he looked at the bright green and black backpack, the fallen school books with bent over pages, and the single envelope pressed to his thigh between the jeans and palm.

"What did you do, Caleb?" Wilbur asked with slight amusement to lift his depressed mood. "Race all the way over here and trip over a pine cone? I think you might be clumsier than I am." Wilbur gave a light laugh.

Caleb shook his head left and right halfway through his last sentence. His eyes locked with Wilbur's the second he had stopped talking. The presents of a smile nonexistent on Caleb's face, and Wilbur dropped the tiny smile on his lips.

"Jeez Caleb, you look like you have been wrestling with a bear. You look awful."

"I feel like I have, but that is not the case." Wilbur moved out of the way just before Caleb stomped over him. Caleb's feet stepped over the marble floor in the entry hall. Wilbur closed the front door and turned to face Caleb. His arm was held out. The white envelope he held by his fingertips was inches from Wilbur's nose. "This is for your family. I wasn't told who to give it to specifically, but you answered the door."

Wilbur raised his brow at the small paper folded to hold letters. "Told by who? What's in it?"

"I didn't open it, but the man who attacked me told me that it was vital your family gets this."

Wilbur snatched the envelope from Caleb's fingers, prayed he didn't give him a paper cut, and turned it every which way; his eyes examined every inch. Some of Caleb's blood stained the white paper in light red, and it covered the single written name but Wilbur could still read it. Wilbur lifted his eyes back to his friend. "Attacked you?"

"I think," Caleb seemed to still struggle with catching his breath, "I think I just met the person behind your mother's kidnapping."

Wilbur's body froze.

Caleb pushed back a stray lock of his dirty-blonde hair from his eyes. "He cornered me after I left school, and threatened to kill my dad if I didn't deliver this to you guys. He said he couldn't get close enough without being spotted and since I am your friend I would be the one to give his last message to you."

Wilbur's head spun in circles that made him dizzy. "The man who gave you this threatened your father? Knew that we are friends and picked you to deliver this?" Caleb nodded his head. "But why would he have you bring this to us? Why," Wilbur's eyes moved the family room and locked on the coffee table where the first message was placed, "didn't he just send it through the…postal….serv…" Wilbur stopped his sentence and just gazed at the coffee table in a daze. His mind stopped spinning so he could focus on each thing one at a time.

' _He never used the postal service. He delivered that package himself. That makes so much more sense. The postal service doesn't run past eight at night and certainly doesn't start the day until eight in the morning.'_ Wilbur was so deep in his mind he barely heard the murmured word enter his ear. _'That package wasn't delivered that night, it was delivered sometime when we were all asleep, and it was there before the postal service even started their rounds. He brought it here himself. So I was right.'_

"Wil-"

' _I was right about everything. The same man was watching mom at the shopping center,'_

"Robin-"

' _the man who broke into my dad's work and standing outside my window,'_

"Bur-"

' _and the same man who took my mommy away from her family. Away from my dad. And away from me. He watched us and hit when he saw the time to. Left us proof, but what could he possibly have left to give us?'_

"WILBUR ROBINSON!"

Caleb's loud voice pulled Wilbur from the depths of his mind. He finally blinked his eyelids from the stare he had on the single table in the family room. He saw that everyone who was in-between the staircases turned in their direction when Caleb shouted his name. Wilbur looked down at the envelope both of his hands gripped and turned it to find the flap. His finger slipped under an unglued part and sliced it across.

"Wilbur?" The voice called out along with the _tap_ of shoes, but the voice was not Caleb's. "What is that?"

He dug a single finger into the half opened envelope and pushed his finger across to rip the rest of the thin paper. His shaky and hurried hands pulled out the contents. His fingers stiff and cold dropped the items and just watched them float to the floor. He went to reach for them, but two strong hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him back up.

"Wilbur?"

He came to face his father's worried blue eyes.

"Caleb? What happened to you?"

His father didn't know which one of them to look at, so his head traveled back and forth from each. Wilbur moved his eyes back to the floor to search for the things he dropped; still not sure what it was.

"I was told to deliver something to your family."

"Deliver what?"

"I'm not sure what it is. A man cornered and threatened me so I would bring it to you guys."

Wilbur continued to search the floor. Whatever he dropped wasn't in sight and that made his eyes dart all over the floor he could see in a panic.

"Who cornered you? Did they hurt you?" His father's voice was still close to his ear and the tone was calm. "You're bleeding."

Caleb didn't answer right away. "I don't know his name, but I think it was the man who took Mrs. Robinson."

Both his father and friend fell silent around him, and Wilbur jerked himself out of his father's hold. He twisted his body so he could search the floor he wasn't able to see in his father's grasp. He finally spotted the things he dropped and fell to his knees on the marble floor. His eager fingers swiped the folded paper and thicker papers up from the ground that needed to be swept. He moved the folded paper behind the others and looked at items that were sent to his family.

Wilbur didn't realize what happened.

One second he was rested on his knees with his fingers holding thick papers with a glossy side.

The next second they were gone from his eyes and his body pulled up from the ground.

"Wilbur!" His name was called by his father.

 _'What? Why are you yelling at me?'_ Wilbur heard the high pitched wails of someone screaming and crying, but he didn't know who it was.

Arms were wrapped under his armpits and hands gripped his shoulders. He felt the thin material of his green t-shirt lift up to expose his stomach. Wilbur was confused.

"Wilbur!" A new voice spoke to him. "Stop, dear."

He felt his body jerk around in the hold that tightened.

"Calm down, Wilbur!"

All the different voices were members of his family.

 _'I am calm. Why are you all telling me to calm down if I'm not doing anything? Why are you shouting at me? Make that screaming to stop. It's hurting my ears!'_

"Stop it! Wilbur! You need to calm down!" His father's face popped before his eyes. His arm was waved around like it was trying to grab something. His other reached for his cheek and the rough fingers brushed his skin. He looked at his dad with confusion.

 _'You need to tell the person screaming to calm down.'_

Why was his family shouting at him and not the one who made the horrible noise?

Why was he being held?

Why was his dad holding onto someone's legs?

 _'Good god! Make that screaming stop! It's making my ears bleed!'_

Wilbur looked into his father's eyes to plead with him, but the moment Wilbur saw the reflection in his dad's glasses he realized it was he who was screaming. His legs were the ones his father held. Wilbur was the reason everyone was shouting at him.

And Wilbur didn't even notice until then that he had been screaming at all.

* * *

 _Friday, August 28th, 2037_

 **W** ilbur had never slept on the mattress of his full sized bed. Not once did he ever feel the springs sink or rise under his body when it moved. He never felt if his mattress was soft like a cloud or if it was hard as a rock. He had only ever laid on the topper that was placed over the mattress. He only felt the topper sink from his weight. The plush material molded to his body shape each night.

That's where Wilbur sat.

He sat, legs crossed, pajama's on over still wet skin, in the middle of his bed. His chargeball comforter clenched in his fingers. His pillows thrown around him. One on the floor. Two somewhere behind him. One in his lap.

The rain that slide down the glass of his window mimicked the water that dripped from his soaked hair and down his back. But Wilbur didn't move to grab the towel to dry the water in his hair. No, Wilbur sat in the middle of his bed in a daze with his eyes out the window. The rain came down in a pour, but there was no thunder nor lightning. Just rain. The rain helped to keep Wilbur's emotions calm, but that was all it did. The rain didn't help to wash away the images like it did the dirt on the glass. He could still see his mother in the way he saw that afternoon. Earlier? Yesterday?

His heart pumped his blood with a steady beat. He could feel his heart inside his chest move with every exhale of breath. It continued to circulate the thickness in his veins that kept his body warm, but Wilbur felt dead inside. Body cold to the touch. Like a corpse. Like dead. Wilbur was dead. His body was only a shell of himself.

The images popped into his head again. The words that he glanced at.

He released the comforter his mother picked out for him when he was six. He tossed the pillow from his lap and no bother to see where it landed. He unfolded his legs with ease. He climbed from the bed he had sat on for who knows how long. He only moved once to stand inside the scolding hot shower water. An attempt to make him feel anything except the coldness. The dead, empty coldness. It hadn't worked.

With minds of their own, his feet carried his shell of a body down the hall and up the stairs. They didn't stop on the landing between the stairs. They didn't stop when he reached the upstairs hall. Wilbur's feet only stopped before his parents' bedroom after his walk down the dark and quiet hall. The door was ajar with a single faint light seeped through the crack. He peeked a wide eye to see inside the room. He saw his father on the carpet. His back pressed into the couch and shoulders hunched. Legs bent at the knees and shoed feet flat on the floor. His elbows pressed into his knees and fingers threaded into his blonde hair. He watched as his head hung and shoulders shook.

His father was crying his pain.

Wilbur wished he could cry his frustration and pain like his father, but his mind thought it best to be an emotionless shell.

Wilbur didn't know when it happened but his legs took him away from the bedroom door, and back to the first story of the only home he has even known. A home that didn't feel like a home anymore, not since his mother had been gone. His mom was the heart of their family. The soul that kept them all together. Kept everyone in check. His mom was what made the Robinson house a home. Without her it was just another building of painted walls, windows, and furniture. No light. No love. Not a home anymore.

Her music lounge was just another room in the house with too many rooms. An empty room that matched the coldness that swirled inside the shell of his own body. His mother was what made the room alive with joy and noise, but now, as he slowly entered that room, it was just left to collect dust. Another painful reminder of his mother's disappearance from his life.

The table and chairs were still in the same position from the interview by the police. The papers that were once on the top were gone, but everything else remained. The mirror along the wall beside it picked up his movement. The shadow of his body outlined in the reflective glass in the middle of the carpeted floor. He could only see the black outline of himself because he didn't bother to turn the light up when he entered. He also caught sight of the largest instrument in the room behind him. The piano his mother kept in her lounge, but never played. He twisted his feet first then his body followed after. Bit by bit until he stood before the smooth, elegant instrument.

The room was swallowed in darkness just like he was, but the white polished paint of the piano looked like a ghost in the room. His eyes had finally adjusted to the dark light while his hand ran along the smooth glass of his mother's piano. An instrument she was exceptionally gifted at playing. Why she stopped playing baffled Wilbur. She was too good to not play, but she chose to stop and he still didn't know why. Wilbur moved his hand to brush over the engraved name in the upper corner, and he wished she would play something for him.

Francesca A. Framagucci was printed in a calligraphy swirl of letters with gold paint. Of course, it was too dark for anyone to actually see it, but Wilbur knew it was there because he had seen it before. He knew it was under his touch at that moment. Framagucci was her maiden name. It was Robinson now, but he knew that his mother must have had that piano since she was young. That was why it said her maiden name. His legs had long since gone numb and his body fell to sit on the matching bench. It felt so odd to him. He never sat on the bench before. He had never seen his mother sit on that bench before. His cold, pale fingers reached up to touch the cover that protected the keys. It was smooth just like the piano itself. Like glass.

 _"Here mom." Wilbur said. "Me and dad got you something. We knew you would do great and wanted you to have something to remember it."_

 _She had grabbed the small blue stripped bag from his outstretched fingers. He watched her pull the green tissue paper free and the black box in her hand. He was given the bag back and his eyes watched her expression turn into surprise. A hand flew to her lips. Wilbur never understood why his mother always did that. Why whenever she was given a surprise her hand or hands would cover her mouth. Was it a girl thing? Or was it his mother's thing?_

 _Wilbur had stopped watching his mother when his thoughts came to light, and didn't realize she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Wilbur was surprised, and felt awkward in her embrace. He gave a nervous chuckle and tapped her back before she released him. He brushed the white, collared t-shirt free of the nonexistent wrinkles and looked back to his parents. Both wrapped in each other's arms._

 _"So, can we go eat now?" Wilbur asked._

 _His father gave him a confused look and his mother looked at his father. "You just ate six pieces of pizza!"_

 _Wilbur crossed his arms over his chest. "That was seven hours ago, dad." Wilbur shifted his eyes to his mother. "Can we go eat dinner now?"_

 _He waited for his mother to answer him. She looked at his dad then to his grandparents who finally entered from behind the curtain. Her hand touched his dad's arm with a smile. "Why don't you guys go? I'm not all that hungry. I'm actually going to take a walk back to the hotel."_

Wilbur hung his head when he remembered the moment he said 'I'll see you later' that night. His hand that rested on the cover pushed the white thing up to reveal the ivory and black keys. Keys that looked worn down from being used, but he knew that was when she was a child.

' _Always in a rush. Never walking in the house. Never stay on the phone long enough to tell her I loved her before I hang up. Why am I so self-centered?'_ Wilbur questioned.

 _His legs struggled to pull his father out of the concert hall by his larger arm. "Come on dad. Move faster."_

 _He heard his father sigh with annoyance. "Stop pulling on me, son."_

 _"I wanna go eat something before my stomach starts to eat my insides." Wilbur stomped his foot. "Mom is already leaving. Can we leave too?" Wilbur saw his mother pick up the wrap she wore with the white dress. Wrapped loose in the bend of her elbows and she pushed the backstage door open. "See you later mom." Wilbur called before she disappeared through the door._

Wilbur struggled with a deep breath.

' _Said I'd see you soon, but that was nearly a week ago. I didn't know time was of the essence for the time I had left with you.'_

Wilbur pressed a single finger down on a single ivory key on the far right side. The note was high pitched and it made his ear ring. He pressed that key down again to hear the noise once more.

' _So many questions. So many questions that I want to ask, but instead I sit here talking to myself. Even if I asked them right now, I know that you won't hear me because you aren't here anymore. Not anymore.'_

Wilbur used a second finger to press down on a black key closest to him. It made a high pitched noise to, but slightly less than the ivory one. He pressed them each at a time. Ivory. Black. Ivory. Black. Ivory.

' _So much that I want to tell you and most of all to tell you I love you, but I know that you won't hear me even if I screamed. You aren't here.'_

Wilbur pressed his fingers down on the two keys as hard as he could. He held them down to make the noise last as long as he could. He pressed them over and over again. The strength he used grew with each lift until both of his hands pressed several keys down. A horrible noise came from the instrument and filled the quiet room that started to suffocate him. Wilbur's body turned around on the bench and his hands inched their way to place his body on the ground. His knees in his chest. Hands in his wet hair.

' _It's so loud inside my head. So loud with all the words that I should have said to you. I love you. I love you. I love you.'_

His toes curled into the carpet the moment his body started to rock.

' _I want to sit here and drown in my own regrets. Regrets that I can't take back because of the words I never said to you, mom. Words I should have said. I should have said them!'_

"Wilbur, honey." A feminine voice filled the room that went silent again.

Her body rested on her knees, her skirts pooled around her legs, and her long sleeved covered arms rested on her thighs. Wilbur lifted his eyes only to look at her face. Her pink lips pressed together in a small side smile. Her nose as small as a button. Freckles, to light for anyone to really see unless you knew they were there, dotted the bridge of her nose and over the high cheekbones. Large brown eyes, soft in color, and framed by thin black brows. Her long, thick black hair tied with a ribbon at the back of her head. Her cowlick present.

"Oh, my sweet baby boy." Her hand reached out to touch his shoulder. Wilbur expected to feel nothing when her fingers touched him, but was shocked to feel the warmth he always felt when his mother touch him. "Why are you screaming? What causes you so much distress little tadpole?"

"You're gone." Wilbur muttered. He couldn't remember the last time his mother had called him tadpole. "You are gone and I didn't tell you I loved you."

"Oh honey. It's okay. It's all okay." Her legs scooted her closer to his and pulled him into her body. His small arms squished between his chest and her own. His short legs stood on the carpet. Face pressed into her shoulder. Wilbur cried into the soft fabric of her dress. "I know you are taking this hard. But you are being so brave. So strong."

The rational part of Wilbur knew that his mother wasn't really there and he hadn't really changed into a five year old. He was thirteen and his mind was playing tricks to his eyes. He knew she wasn't there with him in that room. She was only there because his mind was exhausted, but Wilbur didn't care. He could feel her warmth. He could see her caring eyes. He could see her.

"Are those pictures true? Has he truly hit you, mommy?" Wilbur's voice was high in pitch like it used to be when he was young and it pleaded for her to say no. He moved to look in the eyes he shared with her. But the moment she closed her eyes and sighed, he knew it was true. "I'm so sorry."

Wilbur closed his eyes.

The warmth of her hands disappeared from his back that she had been rubbing.

His eyes opened again, but he was not in the music lounge. He was back in his room.

Body in the middle of the bed. Back pressed into the topper.

Comforter balled in his fists.

Pillow in his lap on his crossed legs.

He had fallen asleep.

' _The longer I lay here, the louder the silence gets. The more the darkness starts to suffocate me.'_

Three pictures. All of his mother.

Her naked body beaten and bruised against the shower wall.

Her eyes filled with hidden fear. Her left cheek bruised and eye swollen while she sat at a dinner table.

Her body placed on a couch. Wrists tied together. Her eyes closed.

 _'Can you find her, Cornelius? The information you require is with you. This is the last you shall hear from me or her. I will be waiting for your presence.'_

Three pictures were glued to his brain. He didn't want to see his mother like that, but the images would not go away. The words he read on that folded paper didn't stop swimming before his eyes.

' _I know that you're gone, but sometimes I swear that I hear your voice inside my head. Telling me that everything will be okay, that I need to be strong and brave, so I talk to the shadows. Hoping that you might be listening to my words, so that you know I will find you.'_

* * *

 **I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Hope to hear your thoughts!  
Until I see you in the next chapter. I love you all my dear readers.**


	40. Chapter Twenty-Nine

_Guest Reviewer: Thank you! I aim to please! I seem to have accomplished my goal of making it emotional and heart wrenching to read. Wilbur is taking the kidnapping very hard. He is finally letting it come to light that it is real. I hope this chapter pleases you as well!_

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Chapter Twenty-Nine  
Cornelius

 _Todayland: Friday, August 28th, 2037_

 **C** ornelius rubbed the palms of his hands over his cheeks for what seemed like the millionth time since he had sat there. His cheeks were puffed and sore from the constant rub and the endless tears that rolled down them. He would image them to be bright red along with the rim of his eyes to be pink or even red as well.

His back pressed against the couch in the room he shared with his wife. The couch he had found Franny sat on, curled up with a book in hand, many times throughout their marriage. Other times where her body was sprawled out as she slept on the plush cushions, throw pillow under her head and another between her legs, to help support her while she was pregnant with Wilbur. He loved to come home and find her like that. How peaceful she looked after a long day with a restless baby inside her belly.

Even with the continuous, annoying tears spilling from his eyes, Cornelius smiled at the memories of her pregnant with their child. She wasn't his wife by law at that time, but he had already thought of her that way the days that followed after she told him.

 _He was tired. His legs hurt from being on them all day long. Not once was he able to sit down in a chair at the Industries. And he missed dinner with his family and Franny…again. He sighed to himself before he entered through the front door. He tossed his keys on one of the little tables in the entry hall. His brief case, filled with unorderly papers, followed next. That was the only sound in the large house, and it echoed along the walls._

 _He knew it would be quiet when he finally got there, but it still made him raise a brow. No one was around to see him come home. Usually Franny would poke her head around the archway and grow excited upon seeing him, but she didn't. He figured she would be curled up in his room with a book in her face and a hand on her belly to calm the stubborn child she was carrying. He smiled at that thought._

 _He moved his feet to get up the two sets of stairs and down the hall that held his bedroom, his parents, and three guest bedrooms. One of which Franny occupied. He opened the door and closed it with his back, all the while his eyes scan the large room. But Franny was not in his bedroom like she usually was when she didn't meet him at the door. He shrugged his lab coat off his shoulders while he thought that maybe she went to sleep early. The child she carried did make her exhausted the further she got into the pregnancy. She was what…twenty-three weeks in now? Or was it twenty-four? All he knew was that she was twenty something weeks and she couldn't look more beautiful._

 _Scratch that. The sight he saw on his couch, after he dropped his coat over the back, was the most beautiful he had ever seen her._

 _Her body was laid out on the cushions. One of the throw pillows she had picked to add color to the couch was under her head. Her long black hair fanned out around her. Down her back and over her shoulder. Her cowlick pinned with a hairclip on top of her head; the bump still there because it wouldn't go flat. Cornelius rounded the couch to get a better look at Franny. His love. Her left arm was tucked under the throw pillow and another pillow was placed between her legs to offer her support and make sleeping more comfortable. He only knew that because he had to ask her one day. Her right hand was placed on her stomach. Her pregnant belly was tiny, but she was tiny so it made since to him. But anyone could clearly see she was with a child._

 _Cornelius smiled at the sight before him of the woman he loved and the child he already loved. He bent to his knees and reached his own hand out. He placed it gently on her stomach near her own._

" _Hey there little guy." Cornelius spoke to the growing child. Boy. His son. "Did you give your mother a hard time today?"_

" _Of course he did." Franny spoke with a whispered, tired voice. Cornelius looked over to her glowing face and saw her eyes were still closed, but a smile on her lips. "He likes to move around constantly and kicks me if I don't give him my full attention."_

 _Cornelius chuckled and brought his face close to her belly. He rubbed his fingers across the soft, skin tight, white shirt she wore. "That's my boy."_

 _Franny snapped her eyes open and scoffed at him with a smile still present. "He gets it from you."_

 _Cornelius kissed her stomach before he pulled her into his arms the moment he sat on the couch. Her head on his chest. His fingers played with her long hair and that seemed to relax her for she let a peaceful sigh escape. "No, he gets the stubbornness from you, my love."_

 _Franny didn't reply right away._

" _I hope he gets something other than my hair from me. He'll hate me for the rest of my life if I curse him."_

 _Franny giggled and snuggled closer to him. "I love your hair."_

 _Cornelius smiled and moved his hand to rub her arm. "Glad someone does." He placed a kiss on her hair._

 _They both sat like that, cuddled together, on the couch. Not a word said for the longest time. Cornelius closed his eyes to savior the moment he had with Franny before she left to go sleep in her room. His head fell back to rest on the top of the couch._

" _Cornelius?"_

" _Yes, love?" He spoke without lifting his head or opening his eyes._

 _Franny did move her head on his chest and he guessed it was to look up at him, because not long after he felt her eyes on him. "Who do you think he'll look like most?"_

 _Cornelius thought about that for the longest of time. Who did he hope his son looked like more? Himself? His love? With the thought process he opened his eyes to meet Franny's. Her warm, brown eyes looked at him with curiosity and that made him chuckle._

" _I hope our son will look like you."_

" _Me?" Franny looked surprised._

" _Mhmm."_

" _Why me?"_

 _Cornelius smiled. "Because you have the cutest button nose I've ever seen. Your eyes are large and curious with the softest brown color I fell in love with." Franny giggled. A sweet tune that made his heart jump. "And don't get me started on your hair." He pressed his nose to hers and their foreheads touched._

The memory only made Cornelius cry harder for it made him miss his wife even more. His hands rubbed the tears again. He removed the round glasses from his nose and his hand pinched the bridge as his emotions ran all over him.

' _Never. Never knew I could ever feel like this. Like I've never lived a day in my life until I met her.'_ Cornelius pushed his body up from the floor. His legs stumbled in his haste. His eyes looked to the bed, but it was fuzzy from the tears that still fell. _'I never thought I'd need her here when I cried like this. Every day that passes with her gone it feels like years have flown me by. I'm alone.'_ Cornelius saw the made bed through his clouded vision. _'The bed where she lays her head is made up on her side. Cold and untouched.'_

Cornelius pushed his legs to remove himself from the bedroom. The door pulled open and left that way as he made his way further and further from the confiding room. He didn't have a clear view of where he was going, but Cornelius wanted to get away from the room as fast as he could.

' _Do they all see how much I need her? Can they see I'm lost and confused without her?'_

"Cornelius!" A voice shrieked in the hall he walked.

His steps halted and his eyes searched the hall for the source of the voice. He already knew who's it was, but he couldn't spot her.

"Cornelius! What are you doing?" Her voice was filled with laughter. "Let me go!"

"Oh no." The sound of his own voice startled him. Cornelius hadn't said anything. "You aren't getting away from me that easily Mrs. Robinson."

Cornelius sent his eyes to look around him. He looked behind him back toward his bedroom door, but neither of the two people who spoke were there. He spun back around to face the other way and he finally spotted them. He body started to shake and his legs could no longer hold him up. He fell onto the window seat. His hands wrapped around the edge with a tight grip as he watched the young couple who could be no older than their early thirties.

He saw his wife, his Franny, struggle to get free from his hold. Her lips in a smile with giggles slipping past them. "I can certainly try Mr. Robinson."

"You certainly can." He replied with a mischievous grin.

Franny, in a knee length, light blue and soft brown dress, twisted in his grasp. He watched himself slip his arm around her waist to the small of her back. He used his greater strength to press her body flush against his own. He grabbed one of her smaller hands into his own and held it out. Her other pushed against his shoulder in a playful way to escape him, but he wouldn't let her.

"Hmm, Mrs. Robinson it seems you have failed in your attempt to escape from me." He spoke in her ear playfully.

"It seems that way." Franny spoke with giggles. "Now that you have me, what do you plan on doing with me?"

His smile pressed against her ear. "I plan to dance with my beautiful wife."

Franny shrieked again when she was twirled around in a dance. Cornelius, not the best dancer, spun their bodies around in the marble hall. Both filled with laughter at the silly, clumsy dance they found themselves in.

He watched until they disappeared from his sight.

' _With her gone, my heart is in pieces and every piece misses her with every passing hour.'_

Cornelius placed a hand over his heart that was torn apart, but still beat inside his chest. It strained to beat and he knew it was because he had no reason to live. He had no right to call Franny his wife anymore. He failed her. He failed to protect her. He was relieved to know she was still alive, but after the images that refused to leave, he truly wished she was dead. To stop the horrible suffering she had been through so far. All the bruises. All of those marks. Cornelius had died inside when he saw that man had touch her.

He finished his walk down the hall and made it to the landing before he stopped his legs again.

' _The face I have come to adore over the years was gone from my eyes. It was missing from my life and all I have to see of it now is a photo. A photo that showed her fear and the beatings that monster had inflicted on her.'_

Cornelius nearly tripped down the staircase when he descended it, but if he was being honest with himself, he wouldn't have cared if he had. The moment he plopped down on a couch, his eyes locked on the pictures and letters on the coffee table. All placed in evidence bags.

The newest letter was a challenge from him to Cornelius. The photos were meant to enrage him. They had. He was furious at the man who touched his wife like he had.

' _The words I desperately need to hear from her lips to get through this struggle and make it all okay, will never come because she is gone.'_ Cornelius gripped his hair. _'I've never felt like this before. Like I can't breathe in a room filled with air. Everything that I do only reminds me of her. The clothing that she has left still smells like her, and it fills our room with her scent. All I ever wanted to do was show you how much I love you, to give you my heart and soul, and now I can hardly breathe.'_

Cornelius felt bad for Caleb, Wilbur's friend, because he had been pulled into their mess. After he gave his description to the police of the man who attacked him, Lucille took him to a bathroom to clean his scraps and bandaged them. Cornelius took the poor boy home himself. He knew that he was scared for his father after the threat, and he didn't blame him in the slightest.

"Cornelius?" Her voice was back.

He opened his eyes, that he didn't realized he closed, to look into the warm chocolate ones he knew anywhere. Franny sat before him. Her knees on the marble, skirts rested around her like a puddle, and a hand held in midair; like she wanted to touch his cheek.

"Cornelius, what are you doing out here? Why are you siting all alone in the dark?"

"Franny," Cornelius dropped his hands from his hair, "I miss you, so much. It hurts to know you are gone."

She gave him a warm smile and a tilt of her head. The ribbon that held her hair swayed from the movement. "I miss you as well, my love. But I am not truly gone. I am still here, Cornelius, you just need to find me."

"I don't know how." Cornelius muttered with disappointment in his tone.

He saw her hand move closer to his cheek, and he knew that he wouldn't feel her touch. She wasn't really there with him. She was brought about from his mind that was over worked and needed rest. He was hallucinating the image of his wife. His mind did a wonderful job at making it seem like she was there, because when her hand reached his cheek he felt the soft skin. He felt the warmth that seeped from her hand. Cornelius looked to her with surprise.

"Yes you do." She said to him. "You do know, because you know who it is. Even though every part of you is yelling that it couldn't possibly be, it is and you know it is." Franny grabbed his other cheek and made him look at her. "You know who has taken me. You know because he is the only one to fit the description given by Wilbur's friend."

Cornelius saw a tear roll down her cheek. He wanted to brush it away with his thumb but he was too numb to move. He hung his head because even though he knew his mind created this image of his wife, he couldn't argue with her. Even when she's not truly with him she was still always right.

" _Come on boy." Chief Barry spoke. You didn't have to be in the room to hear what he was saying to the young teen, but Cornelius stood behind the boy to protect his innocence. "If what you said is true then how can you not give us a detailed description of what the man looks like?"_

 _Cornelius folded his hands over his chest and lowered his brows in annoyance. He had been grilling Caleb for over thirty minutes, and he needed to be cleaned up. "Chief Barry. Don't you think you are being a little_ too _harsh with him? He is a child."_

 _Chief Barry looked up at Cornelius with a hard expression. "What I fail to see Mr. Robinson is you_ grilling _him yourself. This boy has just seen who took your wife, and you are just standing there. If we have any hope of starting a search for her then we need the description."_

 _Cornelius rolled his eyes then landed them on Caleb. He saw the boy slouched in the chair and his fingers twirling around each other. He was nervous and scared. Cornelius returned his gaze to the Chief and motioned a hand out with a raised brow. He was given a single nod of the head. Cornelius moved himself around the chair and knelt before Caleb. He gave the boy a smile._

" _Caleb," Cornelius knew that the Chief was intimidating and thought he would be better to ask._

" _I can't give you a full detailed description of his face." Caleb blurted out._

" _Why ever not? I know you are shaken from the attack, but you are the only one who has seen him. Your description could help them find my wife." Cornelius spoke in a calm voice._

" _I understand that Mr. Robinson."_

" _Then let's start with something simple." Cornelius looked into the boys wide, green eyes. "What color were his eyes?"_

" _I don't know." Caleb whispered with disappointment._

 _Chief Barry sighed loudly behind Cornelius. "This boy is obviously lying."_

 _Caleb started Cornelius, nearly making him fall to the floor, when he sat up straight and shouted. "I'm not lying!"_

" _Then why can't you-"_

" _I barely noticed his eyes!" Caleb returned his gaze to Cornelius and lowered his voice. "He was wearing sunglasses with the lenses too dark to see them. A baseball cap covered his hair and the upper half of his face, but I barely looked at all that."_

 _Cornelius lowered his brows at the boy in confusion. "What was it you did notice clearly?"_

 _Caleb reached a hand up and placed it flat against the left side of Cornelius' cheek. He grew even more confused at the sudden action, but when he opened his mouth to speak, Caleb interrupted. "The burn mark on the left cheek."_

Cornelius opened his eyes to make the memory disappear from his head. He lifted his head to look back at Franny, but she was gone from the floor. He panicked. He wasn't ready for her to leave him. He twisted his head to look around him, but he saw no sign of his wife.

"Franny?!"

Two hands rested on his shoulders. "I'm here." Her voice was a whisper. Her long, thin fingers began to push against the muscles in his shoulders and his body started to fall. "I'm here."

Cornelius closed his eyes and let the soothing feel of her expert fingers take his body away. His back pressed against the couch cushion. The back of his neck connected with the top of the couch. He breathed a long, quiet sigh.

"Hmm."

Her fingers disappeared from his shoulders and that caused him to open his eyes. She was no longer behind the couch. He turned his head to look beside him on the couch. She sat there on the couch cushion next to him, hands placed in her lap, fingers twisted together, her knees turned towards him, and the skirts of her dress sway around her legs every time she breathed. Cornelius sat himself up and turned his body slightly in her direction so his head wasn't the only part of him to face her.

She no longer looked how he pictured her, no, Franny had the markings left on her skin by the man who took her. The deep purple and blue bruises on her left cheek and around her eye made his stomach twist inside itself. The hand prints around her slender neck poked out from under the turtle neck of her lavender and dark blue dress, the dress he had seen her wear in the pictures sent to him, and that caused the broken pieces of his heart to tear part even further.

Salty tears fused together behind the rim of his eyes. The saltiness burned and caused his vision to blur, but he could still see her. He cautiously reached a hand up toward her face, a single tear fell down his cheek, and dripped off his chin. The tips of his fingers brushed over the bruises as softly as his rough skin could. He watched her close her eyes as she took comfort by his touch.

"No, you're not."

Her eyes snapped back open. He placed his palm against her cheek and his fingers reached into her hairline. Her ebony hair waved and frizzy. Her cowlick messy and stuck out in different directions.

"You're not."

She looked at him confused.

"You aren't here. You are not here, Franny, and that is pulling my heart apart. It is hard to breath. It is hard to do anything, because everything I do only reminds me of the things you do. Reminds me of you, and the fact you've been taken from me." He looked at her with sadness. "And seeing you here now only makes your disappearance all the more painful."

Franny reached her hand up to lace her fingers with his. She slowly took his hand away from her cheek, wrapped his single hand within both of hers, and gave his exposed fingers a tender kiss before she pressed their tangled hands to her chest. He could feel her heart beat behind her ribcage. Steady. Calm. Just like a musical beat she plays on the piano.

"You know whose taken me, Cornelius."

He shook his head.

"Say his name, Cornelius. Say it."

He shook his head again. "I can't."

"Yes," her tone changed to a serious one, "you can. You have to Cornelius."

"I don't have to. The police have his name. I don't need to say it, Franny."

She tightened her grip on his hand. "You do need to say his name, so that it will become real to you. If you don't say it then you won't believe it is actually him. You won't believe your best friend could do this to you."

Cornelius squinted his eyes at his wife because once again, she was right. "You're right. I don't want to believe he could do this to my family. To you. To lay a hand on you the way he has. To see you beaten and bruised is more than I can bare."

Franny moved herself closer to him. Her knees brushed against his and moved so their thighs touched. She moved her upper body the short distance to touch their foreheads together. Her eyes closed when they touched. Cornelius could feel her warm breath slip over his parted lips, and he almost believed she was really there with him.

"Say his name, Cornelius." She whispered. Her head lowered closer to his. "Say it." Her small, plump lips brushed over his own when she spoke.

Cornelius threaded his fingers into her hair. "Everett Hudson." He whispered and he moved his face the rest of the way so he could press his eager lips to hers. He never got to touch them. Franny, his wife, disappeared and left him sitting in the family room alone. His body in the same position it had been before her image left.

He limply moved his body to sit forward again. His arm stretched out toward the coffee table. His fingers picked up one of the plastic evidence bags. The image of his wife pressed against the shower wall, herself trying to cover her skin from the eyes that watched her, was held before his red eyes. His heart beat painfully inside himself. Cornelius slipped from the couch, knees in his chest, back against the cushion, and he cried in the darkness that filled the room.

' _Franny, I love you more than the moon that glows in the night sky. I will find you and when I do I will never leave you alone again.'_

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 **He knows!  
Review!**


	41. Friday, August 28th, 2037

**Happy Tuesday! No, not really. Falling ill and working is't fun, but with my job(s) I get to relax. Especially if the child is sick as well.  
You may notice this isn't a chapter. Yes it is supposed to be this way. Enjoy it!**

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 _Todayland: Friday, August 28th, 2037_

" _ **P** olice are still unsure of the whereabouts of Francesca Robinson. No clues to her location have been found, and no calls to give them any leads. It seems no one knows anything about her disappearance."_

The news ran the same story for the second time that morning and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the bright screen. No matter how much he wanted to.

" _Except yesterday afternoon a young teen, Caleb Noels, was attacked after school and delivered a message from the kidnapper to the Robinson family. At this time, we don't know what the message contained, but the young boy was able to help police get an identification the man behind the kidnapping. The boy was unharmed.'_

An old picture, one before the accident at Robinson Industries, popped up in the right hand corner. The picture used for his ID badge at the Industries.

' _His name is Everett Hudson. Former inventor at Robinson Industries, and the man who was involved with the accident last month. Police believe this is the man behind the kidnapping of Francesca Robinson. Dark brown hair that could look almost black. Gray eyes. About five foot-nine or six-foot.'_

At the bottom of the screen big white numbers appeared spaced like a phone number.

' _If you see or have seen this man please call the number at the bottom of the screen. Police warn he could be dangerous and to not approach him. When we come back Marley will give you the weather report for the upcoming week.'_

The TV remote rested on the coffee table between the several chairs and large screen TV in the living room. But he could not utter the strength to reach across the space and grab it. Instead he left his hands threaded together between his parted legs. Elbows on his knees. Round glasses smudged from his fingerprints. Eyes locked on the same channel. He felt a firm hand wrap around his shoulder to offer him comfort, but he didn't turn to see who's hand it was. A part of him already knew who it was. He allowed them to keep their touch of comfort, but it did little to calm the storm inside himself.

A steaming white mug filled with tea was placed on the coffee table before him. A matching white saucer was placed next to the mug with a few finger sandwiches stacked on top of the others. His mother didn't offer any words of reassurance to him. He knew she knew there was nothing she could say to ease his guilt over the situation. He heard her give a soft sigh and from the corner of his eye he saw the shake of her head. She wiped her flour covered fingers on her apron and headed back into the kitchen. Most likely to bake more goods; even though they probably had enough sweets to last them the next four months.

He eyed the sandwiches on the tiny plate and fought with himself if he should eat any. The growl of his stomach won him over and he picked one up to eat. His eyes still on the TV screen.


	42. Saturday, August 29th, 2037

_Unknown: Saturday, August 29th, 2037_

 **T** he tears that fell were not ones of sadness. They weren't ones of happiness. No, the tears that fell down the pale, freckled cheeks were ones of fear. Arms placed to offer protection from jerked movements that could connect to their body. Legs pressed together as tightly as they could get while they sat on the floor.

"How did he figure it out?" The paced figure murmured to no one specific.

Wide brown eyes trailed the hurried and angry figure's every movement. An empty bottle hung loosely from his fingers. "Figure what out?" She asked hesitantly. Her voice no louder than a whisper.

He spun to face her faster than she thought possible for a drunk person. His eyes red from the amount of alcohol he had consumed. "Did you not pay attention, Franny?!" The volume of his voice startled her. "My name and picture is everywhere on the news! How did your moron of a husband figure out it was me so quickly! I have been so careful to keep my distance from the house. Careful to not linger around too long. Make sure no one saw me!"

Franny swallowed the lump in her throat from her tears. "Maybe the boy you attacked. He probably saw you." She offered as a suggestion. She had learned by then that it was better to answer his drunken questions than to remain silent.

"Impossible!" He stepped up to her small body on the floor. Her tied wrists held her weight up. "I made sure to cover my face, so he had nothing to give them." Franny could smell the alcohol that seemed to seep through his pores. Franny moved her eyes away from his to look down at the burn scar on the left side of his face. From the corner of his lip to the corner of his eye the scar covered. "What are you staring at?"

Franny snapped her eyes back to his. "Nothing."

"You were staring at my scar, weren't you?" He grabbed one of her arms and hauled her body from the floor to stand before him.

"No, I wasn't." Franny stuttered. "I was just thinking that maybe the boy saw it. And Cornelius probably figured it out from that."

Everett tightened his grip on her upper arm and jerked her body forward and back. "You were staring at my scar. What, do you think it's unbecoming? Makes me ugly?" He was getting angry at her. "Are you just that shallow that you can't look past it?!"

"Everett please!"

"This is your husband's fault! His fault I look like this!" Everett dropped her arm from his tight fingers. "How about I give you a scar to match, hmm?"

Franny gasped just before his arm swung toward her cheek. He missed, but the glass bottle hit the coffee table. The glass shattered. He swung again, and she yelped from the sting in her face. Her body tumbled to the floor with a twist. Franny let more tears fall. She heard his footsteps grow faint the further he moved away. With struggle, Franny moved her tied wrists close to her face and pressed her fingers to her right cheekbone. When her pale fingers were removed, she saw her own blood stain the skin.

* * *

 **Ouch! Bet that hurt!**


	43. Sunday, August 30th, 2037

_Todayland: Sunday, August 30th, 2037_

 **H** e saw two figures stood before the opened doors of the music lounge. One was tall and thin while the other was short and curved. The tall one had a fist on their hip and the other hand held their chin in thought. The short one held a tray with some kind of food and a drink.

His mother, Lucille and his brother-in-law, Gaston both stared into the room with sad looks on their features; their mouths moved to form soft words between themselves.

"What are you guys looking at?" Cornelius asked when he approached the two. Neither of them turned their heads to look at him, nor did they answer his question. Almost like they didn't hear him speak. Cornelius turned his head to look inside the nearly dark room to see what it was they watched. "Wilbur." He whispered his sons name in understanding of why they stared.

His son Wilbur has been in his mother's music lounge since Friday morning and hasn't left except the few times to use the bathroom. Which he, himself, had only seen him do once. Wilbur refused to let anyone move him, talk to him, or even eat since Friday morning. Wilbur chose to sit crossed legged on the carpet floor. A stack of old DVD's next to him. The stack had gone down since the last time Cornelius looked in on his son. A TV he carried in the room himself sat on the floor before him. The screen on and played a recorded piano piece of his mother. Every once in a while anyone could hear the quiet sods he released.

"He needs to eat something." Lucille spoke up only loud enough for them three to hear. "He's going to fade away if he doesn't."

"Why don't you see if he'll eat what you have?" Gaston questioned.

Lucille shook her head slowly and sadly. "I tried. He wouldn't look at it."

Gaston turned his head to Cornelius. His gaze hard. "You need to do something. He's been sitting like that since Friday. Wilbur is hurting himself just sitting there!"

Cornelius lowered his brows in annoyance. "You don't think I've tried already?! What do you want me to do? Force feed the poor kid? He is traumatized from those images he saw. I can't even find the words to console him. Do you know how that feels, as his father, to not know what to do when your child is hurting?" Cornelius looked to his son who had his back to the door. "When I try to touch him he only cries harder. I think," Cornelius felt his chest tighten, "I think Wilbur blames me for what has happened to his mother."

"I blame you too."

"Gaston!" Lucille scolded him. Cornelius ignored Gaston.

"There has to be something we can do. Wilbur needs to eat. Franny will kill someone if we leave her son to starve himself like this." Gaston sighed.

"We can't force Wilbur to do anything he doesn't want to. That will only hurt him more. Wilbur feels like he has no control over what's going on and we need to just let him have some form of control." Cornelius spoke.

"So we allow him to starve himself as his form of control?!" Gaston hissed.

"Wilbur is a smart boy. He knows that starving himself won't help anything or anyone. He'll eat. He may have already eaten while we were all sleeping." Cornelius placed a hand on his mothers back. Gaston started to storm off down the hall. "Plus he knows that if he does starve himself, his mother will bring him back then kill him again." Cornelius grabbed the tray off food his mother had for Wilbur. His favorite, spaghetti and meatballs.

Cornelius gave a small smile and a nod of his head to his mother before he walked into the music lounge. He walked to his son's side. Around the stack of DVD's and lowered himself down to his knees. He placed the tray of food near Wilbur. He wanted to say something, but no words came to to his lips. He could only sigh at the redness of his sons eyes. The sticky eyelashes from the salty tears. The water trails that stained his skin. With a heavy heart, Cornelius got back to his feet and stalked out of the room. His son left behind to continue watching the old recordings of his mother playing the piano.


	44. Monday, August 31st, 2037

_Guest Reviewer: These chapters (sub-chapters) make it easy to update quickly. Just a glimpse of how our favorite family is doing in the following days after learning the name. They don't really have anything to go on to work faster. They only have a name and that's it. Let's see what happens next!_

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 _Todayland: Monday, August 31st, 2037_

 **T** he green apple that his teeth chewed into tiny bits tasted better than he thought it would. The sour juice that washed over his tongue made him twitch his face up every once in a while. He took another bite before he tossed the nearly finished apple in the kitchen trashcan. His eyes continued to watch the trashcan lid while it slowly lowered until it was closed all the way.

Before he could think himself into going crazy over his thought process, he ran from the kitchen and through the staircases. The palm of his hand pressed against the scanner mounted on the wall and waited for the warmth of the scan to finish then the light to turn green. The moment it did, he pushed the cracked door open and rushed across the back porch. The light rain that drizzled around him barely processed in his head while he pressed his palm against the garage door scanner. He waited.

The tick of the scanner buzzed in his ear and he walked in through the garage door. The large shiny room was filled with different colored travel tubes. His father's, mother's, and two extra cars rest on the left side of the garage. The security system against the far wall before him. Several shelves and storage cabinets scattered around the right side. A place Cornelius never seemed to clean up. And in the middle of the garage was the blue and green time machine. The prototype down in the time lab, and he didn't want to head down the staircase along the left wall, behind the cars, and get to that lower level.

With the only light in the room, above the shiny time machine, he lifted his foot from the ground and moved it forward. His body was carried halfway across the room until he froze the moment the garage lit up.

"Wilbur."

The young teen tensed up his shoulders and crushed his eyes closed. _'Damn it.'_ He stood there. His body stilled except for his chest that moved when he breathed.

"You can try to make yourself as small as possible by staying still, but I still see you none the less, son. You might as well put your leg down, lower your shoulders, and turn around to face me." His father's voice spoke from behind him.

Wilbur gave a loud, over-exaggerated sigh and spun on his feet to turn in the direction of his father. Leaned against the wall next to the open door, arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes locked on him.

"I figured you would try to come in here sooner or later. I had hopped you wouldn't, but I see you have." Wilbur dig his toes into the soul of his convers. "Want to tell me what you're thinking?"

Wilbur didn't speak. He moved his eyes away from his and to the wall behind him. He studied the paint pattern.

"Wilbur. Please talk to me. You haven't said a word since Thursday, and I can't read your mind so I have no idea what is going through your head. That scares me. It scares me that you have shut down and refuse to eat, talk, and not sleeping properly." His father paused from speaking, but Wilbur kept his eyes on the wall. "The only thing I do know your thinking is that you want to use the time machine and go back to stop this from happening, right? To warn your mother about the threat? Am I right?"

Wilbur returned his gaze to his fathers.

"I am." Cornelius pushed himself off the wall and stepped toward his smaller form. "Wilbur, I have told you time and time again that you cannot use the time machine to fix problems. You could risk the chance of damaging the space time continuum. You know this. I know you know this, but I fail to understand why you thought it was a good idea to come in here and do it anyway."

Wilbur tucked his lips inward.

"You are a bright boy, Wilbur. You are bright and smart. You do well in school." Cornelius placed a hand on his smaller shoulder. "Your mother and I are very proud of you, but sometimes you do things without thinking about the consequences." Wilbur lowered his head and closed his eyes from sadness. "Let me ask you something, Wilbur, and try to give me a clear answer. When are you gonna grow up and start using that big head of yours?" His father gave a tiny, quiet laugh.

Wilbur lowered his brows the second he lifted his eyes to look at his. He saw they weren't angry. They weren't sad. They were calm and full of wonder. "I don't know." He mumbled. His voice cracked and dry.

Wilbur stepped around his father and headed for the garage door left opened.

"Wilbur."

He heard his father call his name, but Wilbur ignored it. He walked back out into the drizzled rain and back into the family room. He heard his father's footsteps right behind him. The early morning light poked from the horizon line behind him. Wilbur rounded the left staircase and started for his bedroom.

The echoed knock on the front door made him stop. The knock paused. Wilbur turned in the direction the noise came from. His father headed for the door and Wilbur heard the knock become a bang against the wood. Wilbur made his way, slowly, to the archway that marked the entry hall.

The moment Wilbur rounded the wall, he gasped and his eyes widened with shock.

Chief Barry and a few other police, who he didn't know, stood on the doorstep. Chief Barry was behind his father. Chief Barry's large hands held his father's arms behind his back and a pair of shiny handcuffs were being snapped onto each of his dad's wrists.

"Dad?!" Wilbur forced his legs to move, but they stumbled under themselves. By the time Wilbur reached the opened front door, the Chief was placing his father in the back of the police car. "Dad! What is going on?!"

"Don't worry Wilbur. Everything will be okay." That was the last thing he heard his dad say before the door was closed and the car took off from the Robinson house with his father in it.

Wilbur gripped the doorframe. His eyes started at the sky in disbelief at what just happened.

First his mother and now his father is taken from him.

* * *

 **Well, that happened...that just happened. Okay...well...I'll see you in the next chapter.  
Review...please?**


	45. Chapter Thirty

_Marvel-Comic-Girl: Here is the answer to your question of why the police think Cornelius is a suspect! I'm glad you liked all my quick updates and I continue to please you! Hope this chapter does your expectation justice! Just want you to enjoy what you read! Hope I am pleasing you! Enjoy._

 _Guest Reviewer: YES! CORNELIUS HAS BEEN ARRESTED! Glad these chapters are so thrilling for you! Here is what happens after that arrest. More thrills and twists will be thrown your guys way in the next couple chapters! Enjoy this chapter!_

* * *

Chapter Thirty  
Cornelius

 _Todayland: Monday, August 31st, 2037_

 _ **T** ap, tap, tap, tap._

Over and over Cornelius tapped the fingers of his right hand on the black table top. His body slouched in the metal chair provided with his left fingers pressed into his temple. A chair on the other side of the table was pushed in. Empty. Cornelius had his eyes locked on the paper cup filled with water in the middle of the table. Every so often his sore, red rimmed, blue eyes would lift to look at the mirror behind the table. The only thing on the concrete, gray walls, beside the clock, that surrounded him. Except the black painted door behind him.

He knew that it wasn't just a mirror he looked at. It was a two-way mirror. He couldn't see through to the other side, but he bet Chief Barry and his team stood behind that wall and were watching him. Cornelius could only watch his own horrid reflection. His crazier than normal hair was greasy and frizzed. More than noticeable purple and blue bags under his eyes. He went back to looking at the paper cup.

Cornelius wasn't entirely positive how long he had been in that room. How long it had been since he last saw another face. The last face he had seen was a male officer who shoved him down into the seat he currently sat in. He left after the cup was placed before him. That could have been minutes ago. Hours ago, but the clock in the room hadn't moved since he arrived. He had no way of knowing. He didn't even know the reason he was there in that small room.

The look in his son's eyes when he was shoved into the back of that police cruiser haunted his thoughts. Wilbur was already broken from what was going on with his mother, but now he was sure his son would crush into dust. He had witnessed his father being arrested by the men and women who were supposed to be out searching for his missing mother. What would Wilbur think about that? He hoped his mother, Lucille, would make sure Wilbur was alright while he was trapped in that confined room.

Cornelius let a sigh slip over his chapped lips while his hand removed his glasses. He used the wrinkled shirt he wore to wipe away the finger smudges. He lifted them up into the bright light above him with his eyes squinted to look for unseen prints. He wiped the left lens once more then blew onto the glass before he placed them back on his nose.

Not long after he put his glasses back on and sat up in the chair, the door behind him opened.

Cornelius didn't bother to turn his head and look at who came into the room, he already knew who it would be. Chief Barry appeared into his sight. Dressed in his uniform of gray and black. Belt with all his needed tools and weapons clasped around his stomach. His hat in his hand along with a tan file folder with the stations seal and name printed on the front. Chief Barry had both eyes locked on him probably since he walked in the room and still when he had rounded the table. He didn't say a word, Cornelius didn't say a word, and Chief Barry tossed the folder onto the table top. Cornelius dropped his eyes to look at it and raised his brows when he looked back up into the hard, tired looking eyes. His wife's name had been written on the side tab.

"I'm tired." Chief Barry finally spoke. His body leaned against the wall beside the mirror. Arms crossed over his chest. Eyes still in Cornelius. "I am tired of running around in circles. Tired of the false phone calls. Tired of nothing adding up."

"I can image it is frustrating." Cornelius spoke.

Chief Barry leaned his head back and tilted it to the side. "Oh, those don't frustrate me. Those just make me tired and a little irritated. No, what is frustrating to me is all the lying and puzzle pieces that look like they fit but don't quite make it."

Cornelius leaned against the back of the cold metal chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't follow you Chief Barry." He said. "But if you needed help clearing some things up, all you had to do was ask. You had no need to handcuff me and drag me from my home at five in the morning like a suspect. I really wish you wouldn't have done that in front of my son."

Chief Barry uncrossed his leg from the other as well as his arms. He pushed his back from the wall and walked up to the table. He pressed his palms flat against the black top. "Actually, I would love for you to clear things up for me. There are things that just don't add up in your statement and others of your family."

He lowered his arms from the crisscross and raised his brows. "What do you mean by that Chief Barry."

"I mean, you are at the top of my list of suspects, Mr. Robinson." Chief Barry said.

Cornelius looked at him with disbelief. "You think I'm a suspect?!" Cornelius was baffled. "How can you think I'm a suspect? Caleb Noels help to identify the man behind it all. Why aren't you out looking for Everett?"

Chief Barry yanked the other chair out from the table and sat down across from Cornelius. "Mr. Hudson has been questioned. His co-workers have given him alibies at the time of the kidnapping of Mrs. Robinson. Said he was still at work in his office. Security cameras prove that. Also, his sister said he was home with her at the time of the break in of your company."

Cornelius was at a loss of how to react. "That's…not possible." He shook his head without thinking about it. "That can't be right."

"It is right."

"Check again!"

"We've done everything by the book. We have no cause to arrest him, but you on the other hand, you, we have cause to arrest and interrogate, Mr. Robinson." Chief Barry flipped open the file folder he had placed on the table. He looked at the papers that were inside.

"How can you have reason to arrest me? I haven't done anything!"

Chief Barry pushed several papers across the table to rest before Cornelius. He glanced over the printed words much too fast for him to actually read what they said, but he knew they were statements from people they've questioned. He dropped the papers back onto the table and stared at them.

"Where were you on the early night of August twenty-first? The early hours of when your company was broken into?"

Cornelius balled his fingers into fists on his thigh. He used his other hand to message his eyelids. "Um, I came home. Spent some time with my wife. Took a shower then for the rest of the night I was in my personal lab. I was just about to head to bed when I got the call that there had been a break in."

Chief Barry twisted his fingers around a pen he held. "Do you have someone who saw you in your lab during the hours of the break in? Anyone who can vouch for you?"

"No. Everyone was asleep at the time."

Chief Barry raised a brow. "So for all we know you could have been anywhere. Say like," he paused to looked at Cornelius, "breaking into your own company and stealing that drug."

"Excuse me? I wasn't anywhere near my company! I was at home the whole time."

"So you say, Mr. Robinson. You say you were home, but there is no one to back up your story."

"I'm telling you. I was home the whole time until I got that call."

Chief Barry raised his brow and pushed a few large printed pictures toward him. Cornelius saw one was of the hotel Franny had stayed at, another the restaurant he and his son had eaten at after the concert, and the last was of the concert hall. Cornelius looked at each one in turn.

"What am I looking at?" Cornelius asked. His eyes locked on the pictures of the hotel room his wife had slept in during her stay.

Chief Barry pointed to the front hotel picture first. "This is the hotel your wife was staying in yes, Mr. Robinson?" Cornelius only nodded. "Your wife performed here," he pointed to the picture of concert hall, "at this location?" Cornelius nodded again. He grew more confused the more he asked him questions. "And I recall from your statement and others that after the performance was finished you left your wife to walk back to the hotel alone, while you went to dinner with your son and parents."

"Yes," Cornelius grabbed a fist full of his pants, "Franny was the one who didn't want to go to dinner. She wanted to go back to the hotel room and rest. Wilbur wanted dinner, so I took him."

"Uh huh," Chief Barry pulled one of the sheets of paper from the pile that was in front of Cornelius, "and in a later statement we got from your son after the first one, he said that you left the dinner table shortly after you started eating."

"Yeah, I got a phone call from the Head Board leader of my company. He wanted to know how our latest project was going."

"And that call kept you away for over thirty minutes?" Chief Barry questioned with suspicion and a raised brow.

"Yes, calls with him aren't quick. We started to have arguments over the time length of the project." Cornelius said.

Chief Barry pulled out another piece of paper from the opened folder between them. "According to your phone record, that call lasted over an hour."

Cornelius widened his eyes. "What? I wasn't away from that dinner table no longer than forty minutes at the most." He placed both his hands on the table top. A finger from one hand tapped the table. "Maybe I forgot to end the call and it ran on."

"You wanna know what I think?" Chief Barry spoke not even a second after Cornelius stopped his words. "I think that you had that call as a reason to excuse yourself from that table. So while everyone else thought you were talking on the phone you could go off and do what you needed to."

Cornelius hardened his expression. "And what did I go off and do?"

"While you were talking to that head whatever, you went off to your wife's hotel room."

Cornelius pushed his chair back and stood up. He walked over to the wall to his right and placed both hands against it so he could lean his weight. He let a frustrated sigh from his mouth. He made sure Chief Barry could hear it and know of his growing agitation. "I didn't do any of that. After the call, I went back to my family at the table. We had a nice meal together. I got a message from my wife that she was okay, and we headed back home after that. Wilbur had school the next day, so we left before she was supposed to."

Chief Barry made a tapped sound on the table. "Guilty conscience there, Mr. Robinson? You seem tense and upset. Flustered."

Cornelius spun to face the officer who was lifting his anger level. "I am upset because the man behind everything, the man who was supposed to be my best friend, Everett Hudson, is out there probably doing something to my wife, and you aren't doing anything about it." He tried to keep his voice calm, but the rising tone threatened to spill.

"We are doing something about it. We are going to find your wife."

"Then get out there! Arrest Hudson and make him tell you where my wife is!" The anger broke from the dam.

Chief Barry stood up from the chair. "We aren't after Hudson. Everything points to you. You are the one who is going to tell us where your wife is. You know, and you are going to tell us, and then we are going to lock you away for the rest of your life."

"How could I have done this?" Cornelius pointed a finger at the ground. A fist on his hip. "Tell me? How could I have taken my wife, put her in an unknown location, sent those messages to myself, and not have my family know about it?"

"I'll tell you how I think you've done it." Chief Barry locked his fingers together. "While your family was sleeping, you snuck out of the house and broke into your own company to make it look like someone else did it. You killed that security guard when he saw you."

"I didn't kill Bobby! He was family." Cornelius interrupted.

"Then you waited." Chief Barry continued like Cornelius didn't even speak. "You waited for the right moment to strike against your wife. You found it while you all were in a new town for her performance. While at dinner you snuck away, drugged her, and locked her away somewhere until you could go back for her. You took your family home."

"This is ridiculous!"

"While everyone in your house was sleeping you went back to where you put your wife. You drove her to a new location. You tied her up. Kept her locked in a room. In near darkness. You beat her when she fought against you."

"I would never touch my wife in such a way!"

"Then you create messages to yourself. Make it look like someone else is behind it."

Cornelius started to pace in a small line before the table. When the Chief stopped talking, Cornelius leaned his weight on the table top. "If I did do all that, then how do you explain the man who attacked Caleb Noels? How could that have been me if I was with a family member that entire day?"

Chief Barry moved his body to lean against the wall again. "You paid that man to attack that young boy. Threaten him, and have him deliver that message to you."

Cornelius pushed himself away from the table and to the wall behind him. The wall with the black painted door. He faced it with both his hands clasped to his pants. He took deep breaths in and out through his nose to calm the spark of anger that threatened to over load.

"I didn't do anything you have said, Chief Barry. I didn't kill Bobby. I didn't kidnap my wife. I didn't beat her in any way. I'm innocent and you have the name of the man behind everything yet here you are making false accusations against me."

Cornelius walked back to the table, grabbed the cup of water and downed it before he spoke again. He dropped the cup back onto the table.

"I haven't hurt my wife. She is missing and being abused. I called you out to help me find her. Bring her back to her son. Why would I do all of this to her? What cause or motive could I possibly have, Chief Barry?"

"It's quite simple. You find out, someway, somehow, but you find out your wife was seeing another man. Having an affair with someone else, so you acted out. You kidnap her. Go to lengths to make it seem like someone else did it, so you could focus your attention on making her suffer that pain you felt when you learned about it."

Cornelius clenched his teeth. "My wife wasn't having an affair! How many times do I have to say that? We are happy! And if that was true, why would I call you? Why would I risk getting caught?"

"Are you confessing that it's true?" Chief Barry raised his brows; still leaned against the wall.

"No. Of course not!" Cornelius yelled angrily. "I didn't do any of that. Someone else is out to cause me pain, and he is doing a fine job of doing it. My wife is gone. I am given proof of her abuse. My son is shutting down before my eyes. And now I'm being questioned like a suspect!" He sat back down in the chair.

"I grow tired of your lies Mr. Robinson." Chief Barry moved to the table and leaned over so his face was inches from his own. "I am going to find out where you have taken your wife. I will keep you here all day and night if I have to, but I swear it will be done."

Cornelius leaned closer and lowered his brows. "I'm not the man you need to be questioning!" He spat through his teeth.

Chief Barry smacked his hands on the table top in anger with a hard glare in his eyes. He stared at Cornelius before he disappeared from his sight. He heard the door open and close with a slam. Cornelius closed his eyes tightly and balled his fingers up. After he took a few short breaths he slouched against the metal chair again.

* * *

 _Tuesday, September 1st, 2037_

 **H** e didn't know when he fell asleep, but the slam of the door behind him made his body jump from the surprise. The pictures that were under his head shifted on the table. One stuck to his check from the drool that fell from the corner of his lips. He pulled it from his face with ease and put it back on the table.

Chief Barry pulled the chair across the floor and the screech made his ears ring. The chair was pushed to the wall and Chief Barry stood before the table. Cornelius blinked his eyes rapidly to remove the sleep that took him over. When he could see the Chief clearly he sighed in annoyance, and leaned back in the chair. His hand traced an unknown pattern on the table top and his eyes watched.

"That's not a nice way to wake someone who is sleeping, Chief."

"I'll adjust myself accordingly." Chief Barry spoke with sarcasm.

"Sure." Cornelius mumbled.

They fell into silence. Cornelius continued to draw a pattern on the table top. His eyes trailed the smudges his finger left. He could feel the Chief's eyes locked on him and the movements he made. After the silence filled the four walled room for a few more minutes, Cornelius curled his fingers and his knuckles knocked against the table.

"What can I help you with, Chief Barry?" Cornelius sighed his question.

"There are plenty of things you could help me and my team with, Mr. Robinson." Chief Barry hooked his finger in his belt. "You can make this case move along much quicker if you confess to all that's happened with your wife. Tell us where you are keeping her. Then we can move along to a trial and find you guilty. Lock you away for the rest of your life and then see the relief on your wife's face that her nightmare is over."

Cornelius pinched the bridge of his nose above his glasses. He gave another sigh and looked at the Chief. He was really starting to dislike this man.

"As I've probably told you a thousand times I don't know where my wife is. I don't know where she is because I didn't kidnap her. If I knew where she was I would run to her right now and pull her into my arms and never let her go."

Chief Barry leaned his arm above the two-way mirror and he could see he was watching him from the reflection. He studied him from the image given by the mirror. Cornelius didn't think it was possible, but he looked even worse than before his nap.

"Look Chief," Cornelius pushed himself up from the chair, "you have no legal cause to keep me here. No evidence. No clues. No leads. All you have is a theory that couldn't be more ridicules and irrational." His legs were wobbly under his weight. "So, since you have no reason to hold me any longer, I am requesting to go home. I need to be with my family and my son. He needs to know that his father is innocent." He shoved his hands into his pockets.

Chief Barry lowered his brows at him through the mirror's reflection. "I will keep you here as long as I want until you tell the truth."

Cornelius was about to speak, but the door behind him opened. It did not close and that caused Cornelius to turn to see the woman who stood in the doorway.

"Actually," she spoke up, "he is free to go."

"But-!"

"No 'buts' Mr. Davis."

' _So his last name is Davis? Barry Davis.'_

"You have no reason to keep this man here any longer." The young looking woman turned her attention to Cornelius. "You are free to go Mr. Robinson. I am sorry about this inconvenience and we'll get back to finding your missing wife."

"Thank you…?" Cornelius ran his sentence out in hope that she would give her name.

"Sergeant Morgan Lee." She gave a nod of her head. "His boss."

"Sergeant Lee." Cornelius gave a mumbled response, and started for the door. He rounded the corner and made his way for the front door.

"You need to pull yourself together." Cornelius heard her hiss at the Chief. He stopped in his tracks to listen to the conversation. "You are supposed to be finding out what happened to that man's missing wife. No interrogating him all hours of the night."

"I had him in here because he is a suspect, Sergeant Lee."

"Do you honestly think that well known, respected man, a man who is devoted to his family and wife, would do this? Because I don't see it. You need to go back to investigating that other man, Everett Hudson. He is your only lead right now. If you have to go back to the beginning, then you do. Look over the pictures again. Go back to the crime scene. If you keep up this behavior, then I will put someone else on this case." Her voice grew hard and stern. "Don't make me question you again."

Cornelius knew she would be leaving that room, so Cornelius quickly made his way further down the hall. He made a turn and headed out the glass door. The cold air engulfed his body and jolted him awake.

With a sigh, Cornelius skipped down the concrete steps and headed for the nearest monorail station. He waited for the monorail to appear. After a ten-minute wait, it pulled up into the station and Cornelius climbed inside one. When it was on its way to the next couple stops until it reached the one closest to his house, Cornelius thought about his son. He thought about his family. He thought about Chief Barry accusing him of kidnap and assault. He thought about his wife.

Cornelius thought about wife, but he then noticed something.

He couldn't remember the last time he hugged her.

He couldn't remember the last him he had kissed her.

He also wouldn't remember the last time he told Franny he loved her.

His heart saddened at that realization.

When the monorail stopped at the station he needed, Cornelius got off. He could see his home not far off in the distance. With his body faced toward it, Cornelius wondered if his beloved Franny knew that he loved her and missed her sweet, caring eyes.

The moon shone from the break in the clouds and lit his body up in soft blue light as he headed for his home. To his son, where he would wrap his arms around his small frame and tell him he hadn't lost him too. He was still there for him. Always and forever.

* * *

 **Well, Cornelius has spent some nice time in a police interrogation room for almost twenty-four hours. I kinda had fun doing this chapter after all the depressing writing I've had to do. I am still not feeling my best, but tomorrow is my first day off in two weeks! I will be writing the next chapter and possibly the next after that!  
What do you guys think will happen next chapter?  
How many days do you think it will take to find Franny now? What date do you predict she will be found?  
Who will find out where she is?  
I'm curious to know these answers. To know if the mystery is easy to figure out.**

 **Review your lovely thoughts to me! I need them to keep a smile on my face instead of crying because of the depressed mood my chapters have put me in.**


	46. Chapter Thirty-One

_Marvel-Comic-Girl: It is sad and hard to know that Cornelius is viewed at the man who did it. I hope the police arrest Hudson to. I wanna give him a few for all he's done to the family and to Franny._

 _Guest Reviewer: Yes, Cornelius was let go, but will Barry leave him be and find Everett the top suspect? Hm...all these questions. Whatever will happen?_

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Chapter Thirty-One  
Wilbur

 _Todayland: Tuesday, September 1st, 2037_

 **H** is back was pressed firmly into the plush cushion of the single couch against the same wall as his bedroom doors. Both his legs were bent at the knee and his sock covered feet pushed into the next cushion. He had his right arm draped over his stomach and a green bouncy ball tossed against the wall and caught by his left. The same pattern played over and over in his head.

 _Toss. Bounce. Grab. Toss._

He knew the member of his family was still stationed outside his door. Has been since he rushed in, slammed the door, and locked it. They haven't spoken in some time, neither did he, but Wilbur didn't mind the silence his room offered. It gave him time to process his thoughts and figure out exactly what they were trying to tell him. At the moment they were just a bundle of incoherent jumbles of mush. Like mud.

 _Bounce. Grab._

"I know you can hear me Wilbur." The voice on the other side of the door finally spoke up again. "You can make it seem like you've gone to sleep, but I can hear the noise against your wall. Please talk to me, little buddy. I haven't heard your voice in days. I haven't seen you in days. Unlock the door."

Wilbur clenched his fingers around the ball and sighed is annoyance at his robot best friend who would not leave him alone. Would not give him the distance he so desperately wanted to have in that moment. He had witnessed his father getting arrested not even twenty-four hours ago, and his father still hadn't come home yet. He drifted his chocolate eyes to the digital clock on his desk. The angry red numbers that filled the glass blurred from the distance he looked at it, but Wilbur knew it was nearing four in the morning.

 _Toss._ _Bounce. Grab._

"Little buddy," Carl sounded like his voice was pleading from beyond his locked door, "please, I just wanna hear your voice. You not speaking is frightening."

 _Toss._

"I wanna know if you're alright."

 _Bounce._

But Wilbur let the ball slip past his fingers. He shot up from the couch, the ball bounced along the floor further away from him, with his shaky fingers out stretched for the doorknob. He turned the latch after he had tried to yank the door open and realized it was locked. He came to face the worried looking robot that stood on the other side of his door.

"No, Carl." Wilbur growled through his clenched teeth. "I am not alright. How could you wonder if I'm alright? Have you not been paying attention to anything that has been happening? My mother has been taken from me. From her family. Now, my dad has been arrested for god knows what." Wilbur left the door open and pushed himself away from the threshold. He stomped further into his room.

"I'm sorry Wilbur." Carl spoke from behind him. "What can I do to make you feel better? I don't know, for the first time, I don't know how to help you."

"There is nothing really to help me." Wilbur mumbled. He knew at the volume he spoke nobody would have really heard him, but Carl had higher in hearing than anyone else. When Wilbur was younger he thought it was a superpower that his buddy had. Now he hated it because Carl heard every mumble he spoke. "Nothing."

"What can I do?"

Wilbur spun around on his heels, the socks nearly made him fall on the teal colored wood of his floor, to face Carl. His eyes held a dangerous rage he tried to keep locked inside himself. Carl didn't deserve his anger and hurt to be directed to him. Carl didn't do anything. He was only trying to help him, but Wilbur wished everyone around him would stop trying. His grandma's constant effort to get him to eat. His father's attempt to comfort him. Wilbur wanted them all to quiet and leave him to deal on his own.

"You wanna know what you can do? You can go find and bring my mom back to me! Lock the man who did this up and make sure he never hurts my family again!" Wilbur screamed.

Carl took an involuntary step back during Wilbur's outburst.

Wilbur curled his fingers into both his palms while he calmed himself. "I would love to bring your mother back, Wilbur, but I'm not a detective. I don't know how to find her."

Wilbur raised his brows at what Carl had spoken. "You're right Carl. You can't." Wilbur stepped up to his friend and grabbed both his thin arms. He twisted the robot around and began to shove him from the room. "I really do thank you for trying to help me be okay Carl, but what would really help is being left alone with my thoughts." Wilbur shoved Carl past the threshold. He quickly shut the door with his back pressed against it.

"That only makes me worry more. You keep yourself locked away from everyone." Carl spoke from the other side.

"I'm fine Carl!" Wilbur spoke loudly from his side which he didn't really need to. "I know exactly how to make myself feel better. I just really want to be alone so I can go to sleep."

Wilbur hoped that Carl would believe him. With his ear pressed against the wood he heard the robot sigh then walked further from his door. When he could no longer hear the metal steps, Wilbur moved away from the door and headed for his desk. His school bag was hung from the back of the chair he used to sit at the desk. He lowered down to his knees so he could open his bag. He pulled out the binders, loose papers, and the two school books he had. He put them all in an unneat stack before him. He grabbed all the other items he kept in his bag. He pulled out his cell phone that he didn't bother to take out after he got home from school last week. His white headphones were still wrapped around the glass and plugged into the port. Wilbur hit the power button on the side. Much to his surprise the screen lit up under the wire of his wrapped headphones. The battery level was low. Only at five percent. It needed to be charged because he would need it.

He made sure everything was removed from his bag and looked it all over. He slipped the strap from the back of the chair and laid it over his lap. He shoved his phone inside a small pocket in his bag. He grabbed one of the blank notebooks he hadn't used yet, a few pens, and shoved them inside the bag. He moved things around to see if he would need anything else in his messy pile of school supplies. He didn't. He closed the flap, grabbed the strap in his hand, and got up from the floor. He flung the strap over his chest while he made his way over to the platform in his room. Once it lifted him up to the second story of his room, he slid over to his bed. He used his hand to lift the mattress up and used the other to search the platform wood that was his bed frame. He smiled when he found the little cloth bag he hid under the mattress. He pulled it free then lowered the mattress back down. He felt the wad inside the closed bag. Wilbur had been saving all of his earned money from his parents and grandpa over the years he started to get paid for chores. He ran his thumb over the chargeball symbol on the front. Without another second wasted, Wilbur shoved the small bag into the one on his hip and made his way back to the first level. He made his way out the door, after he looked both ways in the hall, and headed for the staircase. He needed to get a few things still.

The family room was still empty and dark. He knew everyone was either asleep in their beds or in their rooms wide awake not ready to come out yet. Wilbur made his way up the staircase, across the landing, and up the smaller set of stairs to the hall. With no shoes on his feet, Wilbur was able to move quietly and slip into his parents' bedroom undetected. The room was dark except for the escaped moonlight that came in through the window. Wilbur flipped the switch to make it easier to find what he wanted. Wilbur knew where it was. She kept it in the same place. He rounded the couch and went to the bookshelves on either side of the fireplace. He made his way over to the left one. The bookcase that held all his mother's books, trinkets, and picture frames. On the largest shelf, the top of the storage cabinet, was his mother's digital camera. He reached for it, checked to make sure a SIM card was inside, that it was fully charged, though she always kept it that way, and shoved it inside his bag with care. His mother would kill him if he broke her favorite Christmas gift. On his way out, he removed a picture frame of his mother from his father's bookshelf and put it in his bag as well.

He nearly ran down the stairs to get to the family room faster. He bent over the coffee table, scooped up the several clear evidence bags. Wilbur's school bag had gotten heavy with everything he had shoved inside. The evidence bags he put in didn't really add more weight. He looked around him and found the room around him still empty. He wondered where Carl had gone off to, but didn't want to think long on where he could look. He needed to leave before someone saw him and stopped him.

Wilbur headed into the garage.

He didn't stop after the door was unlocked, he didn't stop when he reached the vehicle, his shins hit against the metal, his hand pulled the door open as he rounded around it and slipped inside. The inside of his mother's personal vehicle was familiar. He removed the strap of his bag and dropped it into the passenger seat. Wilbur moved the seat a little back so he wasn't right on top of the wheel. His mother was shorter than he was, so she needed the seat closer. He brushed his fingers over the key hole to turn it, but the key wasn't in there. He bent over to see. He sat up quickly and began to search the car. He knew a spare set was kept inside. He opened the dash, looked in the middle console, and grew curious. He looked up at the visor and quickly pulled it down. By luck the keys fell into his lap. He fumbled with them until he twisted them in the hole. He leaned against the back of the leather seat. He ran both hands through his hair with a loud exhale of breath.

' _Am I really about to do this?'_ Wilbur started to feel the anxiety build up inside himself. _'What if it doesn't work? What if I'm not better than them? What if I do this and it's all for nothing?'_ Wilbur gripped strands of his dark hair. _'Maybe I should bring Carl with me. That way I won't be alone. I'll have help if I get stuck.'_ Wilbur gripped the wheel with both hands and tight fingers. _'No. Carl will only try to stop me. Call me crazy. Insane even. But,'_ Wilbur pushed the button to start the car, and hit the button next to it, a smaller one, yellow, and it opened the hatch that would allow him to exit through the garage ceiling, _'I bet someone else would.'_

Wilbur put the car into drive so he could move it beneath the hatch. _'Can't be any harder than driving the time machine, right?'_

The moment he got the car out of the garage, he learned that it was much different than driving the time machine. It was harder, but Wilbur managed to get the car moving smoothly after a few failed jerks. When his confidence was up, he pushed the car to go faster, but not fast enough to get him pulled over. That would end ugly considering he was illegally driving his mother's car. Wilbur knew where he was headed. He knew he would be there in a few minutes.

He could see the neighborhood from the streetlamps that lined the streets. He moved the wheel, so he could lower the car. Wilbur panicked when the thought crossed his mind about landing the car. Was it the same as landing the time machine? He truly hoped so. It turned out it was. The wheels lowered from inside the car, and he dropped down in the backyard. He quickly turned the car off by the same button. He opened the door, scrambled out into the grass, and quickly made his way closer to the back of the house. He knew which window was his. He remembered a conversation about bedrooms after he had seen Wilbur's.

Wilbur moved to the large tree next to the window. He jumped up to grab the lowest branch, used all the strength he had to pull himself up, and moved his body to stand on the branch. He climbed the next few branches until he was high enough to get on the slope of the roof below the windows of the back of the house. He crouched before the window and he tapped against the glass. After a few moments with no answer, Wilbur taped again but harder. He finally saw a shadow move behind the glass and it opened the window all the way. The sleepy boy inside the bedroom was still rubbing his tired eyes with the palm of his hand. When he stopped, he looked at Wilbur with surprise.

"Wilbur?" He whispered. "Wha-, what are you doing here? Why are you outside my window?" Caleb pulled the button up pajama shirt he wore down over his stomach that had been exposed. "It's nearly four in the morning, so what could you possibly need?"

Wilbur gave a sideways grin to lighten the mood. "Oh you know, just strolling through the city. Taking in the sights. Enjoying the cool breeze-"

"Okay, okay." Caleb interrupted after a yawn. "What are you really doing here?"

Wilbur adjusted his position so he could sit on his butt. "I, uh, I kinda need your help with something."

Caleb sighed. "And this couldn't wait until a reasonable hour? Say like, after school. Something I have at eight. You being here is interrupting my much needed nine hours of sleep."

"Caleb, this couldn't wait until later. I need your help now."

Caleb gave a defeated sigh and sat down on the windowsill. "Okay, fine. What is it?"

Wilbur played with a loose string on his jeans while he thought his answer. His finger pulled against it. "I need you to help me find my mom." Wilbur turned his head to look at Caleb when he didn't hear him answer right away. He was looking at Wilbur with wide eyes.

"Are you crazy?! Why in the world are you trying-"

"My family is falling apart around me." Wilbur interrupted with a soft mumble. "We used to stand together like pillars, but now we are divided. Everyone else had crumbled, and I feel like I'm the only one left standing to hold us together. But," Wilbur swallowed and took a deep breath of cool air through his mouth, "with every passing day I break more. With each hour that passes through the day I gain new cracks, and soon I'll crumble then there won't be anyone left to hold us together."

Caleb shifted. "Wilbur, I can understand how you see and feel like that. Everything going on is hard and heartbreaking. But what could possibly have happened that makes you wanna leave in the early hours of the night to go search for your mom?" Caleb touched his upper arm. "Why don't you just let the police work on the case?"

Wilbur hung his head and mumbled. "The police are to focused on blaming my dad to see the real person behind the kidnapping."

"You mean focus on that Everett guy?" Caleb questioned. "If they know who is behind it then why are they trying to blame your dad?"

"I don't actually know the real reason, but I can guess that they think he did it. I don't see why, but it's just my guess." Wilbur lifted his head back up and looked at Caleb. "They are more focused, it seems, on pinning the blame on my dad instead of questioning and arresting my dad's former friend. By doing that, they are putting my mom at risk of being killed. That doesn't sit well with me, so I'm doing something about it. I'm taking this case into my own hands and I'm gonna find her and bring my mother back home."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Wilbur. You can't just take off to search for your mom. If Everett is the one who actually has your mother, then you are putting yourself in danger. He is a threat to you as well. What do you plan to do if you do find where your mother is? You can't just walk up to him and expect him to hand her over. He could hurt you. This is crazy!"

"I know it crazy. It's more insane than anything." Wilbur said. "But, I haven't thought that far ahead yet. I'm not sure what I'm going to do if I find her. I'll figure that out when the time comes. Right now I'm playing all this by ear."

Caleb removed himself from the windowsill. He ran a hand through his hair and paced. He sighed in a way that was unclear to Wilbur. After Caleb ran an opened hand down his face, he turned back to Wilbur. The hand held his chin and a hand on his hip.

"You truly are crazy, Wilbur. You need to think rationally. If you do this, you will get hurt. Lost somewhere. I really think you need to leave this to the police, go back home, and wait for them to figure it out. You don't need to put yourself in danger." Wilbur rolled his eyes. To him, Caleb sounded just like Carl. "What would your mother think of you doing this?"

Wilbur turned away from Caleb. He asked a hard question, and he knew that his mother would kill him if she knew about his plan, but he wasn't going to let that thought stop him. He knew he needed to do what he planned.

"Look, that doesn't matter. What matters is finding my mom. I'm asking you to come with me and help."

Caleb looked at him confused. "Why do you want me to come?"

"I think it would be easier if there were two of us. We could think off the other and figure it out together. Plus, your father is a police officer. You must know some things about how an investigation works."

Caleb shrugged. "I guess, but-"

"Caleb, you can try to talk me out it, but it will not work. I'm still doing this. I'm asking you to help me. Maybe you can keep me out of trouble, but I'm only asking you."

"Wilbur,"

"You can't talk me out of this. I'm going whether you come with me or not." Wilbur moved himself toward the tree, so he could climb down. He nearly slipped on a branch, but he made it down safely. Wilbur made his way toward the waiting car, so he could start his quest to find his mother. He was just about to climb into the driver's seat when the sound of Caleb's voice stopped him.

"Wait Wilbur." He turned to face him. "I'll come with you." Wilbur smiled. "But only because I don't want to leave you to do this by yourself. Who knows what you'll do. I'm coming so I can make sure you don't burn down a city." Wilbur couldn't help but laugh at his friend.

"Okay, that seems fair enough." Wilbur climbed into the driver's seat, and Caleb got in shortly after that. Wilbur moved his bag to the floor, so Caleb could actually sit down in the leather seat. "Alright. Let go."

Wilbur strapped the seat belt across his chest that he forgot to do when he left the house. Caleb did the same. He pushed the button to start the car after he twisted the key again. Wilbur moved the car into the air and headed in the direction he needed to go.

"Alright, I hope you got everything you needed Caleb. I don't know how long we will be gone."

"I think so. What about you? You got everything you need?" Caleb questioned with a raised brow and smirk.

"Yep! Everything I could think of is in that bag. I'm good to go."

"Oh really?" Caleb started to snicker. "Where are your shoes?"

Wilbur froze. _'Did I seriously forget my shoes?'_ Wilbur moved his toes and felt it was true. He was still in his socks. "How could I forget shoes." He grumbled.

"Who knows." Caleb laughed at Wilbur. "So, where are we going? Cause I'm nervous about you driving a car." He spoke after his laughter stopped.

"We are going to the last known location my mother was seen." Wilbur said with a leveled voice.

"And where is that?" Caleb pressed for the answer.

Wilbur adjusted his fingers on the wheel and tightened his grip. "Moorestown."

Wilbur saw Caleb turned to look at him from the corner of his eye. He guessed it was shock. "Wilbur!"

"You can still back out, Caleb, but if I'm gonna find my mom then I need to go there."

Caleb slumped against the leather seat. "No. You at least know where you are going right? You know the way?"

"Oh right." Wilbur pointed to his bag on the floor. "Can you grab my phone, put it on the charger there, and put in the towns name on the GPS?"

Caleb did as he was asked. Once the GPS lit the direction they needed to go, Wilbur and Caleb fell into a death silence. Neither pulled their eyes away from the sky. The moon low in the darkened blue canvas painted with white stars, and Wilbur sped the car up.

' _I'm coming mom. Just hold on.'_

* * *

 **Whoa!  
That was fun. Wilbur off doing something without thinking through it clearly. Fun fun, and he dragged Caleb into it. What could happen next?  
Review!**


	47. Pity

_Guest Reviewer: I'm excited to see what team Wilbur and Caleb make as well. I don't write Caleb that much so exploring his character will be fun! I wonder if they will find a clue to give the police? hmm? Glad you like the hands on action that will be happening! Hope you like this "chapter" too!_

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Pity

 _Unknown: Tuesday, September 1st, 2037_

 **T** he afternoon light slipped through all the windows in the open concept room. The cloud cover is thin, but drizzling rain still fell to the ground. The sunlight, that is blocked out by the clouds, is light enough to where I have no need to flip a switch.

I go back to my full attention on the task before me.

I run the butter knife across the surface of the white bread. The creamy white mixture that made up mayo spread over evenly. I drop that slice down on the wooden cutting board, and put the knife in the mayo jar. I pull the cover off the ham package and work my fingers to separate three slices of the sliced meat. I stack them on the other slice of bread then open a single packet of cheese to place on top of the ham. I top my sandwich off with some lettuce and tomato before I put the mayo slice on top. With my lunch in both hands, I finally lift my eyes from the mess before me to the woman who sits in an island stool across from me.

She wasn't looking at me, no.

Franny wasn't looking at me but at the countertop. Her wrists still tied with the white rope rested on the dusty island top. She used her pinky finger to make a somewhat shape with the restriction of the rope. Her darker than night hair tumbling down her back and over her shoulder in a wavy, frizzy mess. Her lips parted, chapped, and a split on her bottom lip. The dark bruises present on the left side of her face look swollen and every movement of her head the light made the damaged skin shine. Blood has dried along the cut caused by the broken whiskey bottle. The cut high on her cheekbone was inches below her eye.

But even though her face is marked by my touch, I can still see the beautiful she possesses and the fight that she refuses to get rid of. I can see in her eyes that she fears me every time I make a move near her, but yet she still fights against me.

Her brown eyes lift from the countertop and lock into mine that break the train of thought. Her facial expression doesn't show anything.

I give her a toothy smile before I take a large first bite of my sandwich. I chew the great tasting flavors, swallow, then give her my attention again.

"Would you like some lunch, Franny? You barely touched your dinner last night."

She shook her head. "Not hungry."

I take another bite. "Aren't hungry or refusing to eat again?"

Her head turns to her right to avoid my stare. I chuckle with another bite. "I don't want anything." She forced through her teeth in the nicest way she could without sounding annoyed. "Thank you for asking."

"Sure."

The silence around us began and I finished my sandwich while I watched her continue to look to the side. After the last bite, I wipe my hands together, and begin to clean up the mess I made. I occasionally look her way, but every glance she is still in the same position. I put the mayo back into the fridge, and close the door.

"So, you know things have developed in your case."

Franny gave a breathy laugh and her eyes close. "I don't really wanna hear any of it."

"Police seem to think that I'm innocent. That I'm not involved in anyway."

She turned to finally look at me. "What? But they have your picture all over the news." Her voice was filled with disbelief. "How, how can they not think it is you? Caleb described you to them! How is it possible they don't think you have anything to do with this?!"

I smirk at her. "Because I've apparently been busy at work and staying with my sister during the break in at Robinson Industries. Around the time of your disappearance I was at work late."

Franny was shaking her head.

"That's not even the best part." I give her a large smile. "Your husband, Cornelius, has been arrested."

Franny's mouth dropped opened and her brows lift. "Why? Why would they arrest him?"

"Oh I don't know." I try to act like I know nothing more and shrug my shoulders.

Her brows lowered. "Yes you do because you wouldn't have brought it up to torture me with his pain."

"Oh to right." I walk around the island to stand before her. "The police think your husband kidnaped you." Franny goes to speak, but I silence her with my finger. "They seem to think that you had an affair with another man and Cornelius found out about it. So he came up with a plan to make it look like an abduction."

Franny slips off the bar stool. Her tied wrists held to her stomach. "No." Is the only thing she whispers.

"Their minds are set on him being responsible for everything. The break in to his own company. Your kidnapping. The attack on Caleb. The messages left to him. Your abuse. Everything."

"But none of it is true. He didn't do any of that." She looks at me. "You are."

"Of course Cornelius and us know that, but the police don't seem to be on the same page as we are."

Franny started to stumble around on her bare feet. The air she takes in and lets out is ragged and heavy. I reach for her and grab ahold of her arms. I turn her to face me. I give her a smile and her expression turns hard.

"Oh, Franny." I lift a hand up and run my fingertips across her swollen face and tuck her hair behind her ear. My fingers trail over her jaw until they grip her chin. "I pity you. Your family is falling apart, dividing against each other, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. You're hopelessly lost and afraid."

"I don't need nor want your pity."

"I'm sure you will once you watch your husband's life drain from his eyes. When he dies before you and there is nothing you can do to stop it, you will want my pity then to help you get through the loss." I move my lips to her exposed ear and brush them against the soft, warm skin. "And I will make sure you forget all about him." I feel her body tense up slightly. "Don't worry darling. It will all be over soon." I pull my face away from her ear to look at her eyes again. I give a slight side smile then I press my lips to hers.

A muffled, surprised scream is made by her when my mouth touches hers. Even though her lips are chapped and split they are still soft. I enjoy the taste of her. The sweetness of her lips only make me want more of her. When I finally break away from her, I don't stop to see her reaction. I move myself back around the island.

"You sure you don't want lunch? This is my last offer." I place both my palms flat on the island countertop.

* * *

 **Maybe I might be going crazy with writing Everett. He just seems to be getting worse and more loony. Oh god, I'm losing my mind guys. I'm becoming a psychopath just like him!  
I really hope not. I cross my fingers that it's just because I'm okay at creating different kinds of characters because he only gets worse.  
Read and Review you lovely people.**


	48. Chapter Thirty-Two

**It seems we have a new character to look through their eyes. I had fun exploring his character. Hope you guys enjoy getting to know Caleb!**

 _Guest Reviewer: We will have to see what happens won't we? My lips are sealed on the future that only I can predict correctly! Maw ha ha ha!_

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Chapter Thirty-Two  
Caleb

 _Todayland: Tuesday, September 1st, 2037_

 **H** is fingers continuously moved around each other and his teeth bit down into his bottom lip. His eyes looked out the passenger window to connect shapes in the stars. A way he tried to occupy his mind from the current time of his life. What had he been thinking? How could he agree to get into a car with a thirteen-year-old behind the wheel? And in the early hours of the morning too! What will his father think?

Caleb turned his head to look at Wilbur in the driver seat on the other side of the middle console. His eyes were locked on the sky before him. To Caleb his friend looked determined and dead set on his task. His reckless task, but Caleb could somewhat understand his rash actions. To a certain extent.

Outside the driver side window, he could see the sunlight break over the horizon line.

With a quiet sigh, Caleb turned back to face forward. His fingers went back to their fidget. Teeth pulled the chapped skin from his bottom lip. His green eyes glanced to Wilbur's phone that was placed in the case connected to the dashboard. The screen was dimmed as low as it could, but it was still bright. The GPS showed the path they needed to follow to get to Moorestown. They still had about three hours to go until they reached the larger city.

Caleb pressed his shoulders and the back of his head into the leather seat and closed his eyes. His fingers looped together and rested in his lap. His teeth released his, now, burned lip. He released a long, quiet sigh before he let his mind drift in the darkness behind his closed eyelids.

' _Why did I get into the car?'_ Caleb asked himself through his thoughts. His mouth unmoved and pressed together. _'Is the real reason because I wanted to make sure Wilbur stayed out of trouble or is it something else? I know that leaving Wilbur to do this insane task alone could get him into trouble without some sense knocked into him when he tries to do something crazy. He needs me to help him. A boy I barely know needs my help to find his mom. Is that why I came with him? Because I could see the depression and pain in his face while he sat at my window? Or could it be because of something much bigger?'_

* * *

 _Moorestown: Tuesday, September 1st, 2037_

" **H** ey!"

The sound of the other voice, loud like a quacked duck, made him jump in the leather seat. Seatbelt pressed into his bladder. He blinked his eyes to allow them to adjust to the bright sunlight before he turned to face the person the voice belonged to.

"Oh good, you're up." Wilbur said with a smile. "I was starting to get lonely."

Caleb rubbed the sleep from his eyes rather harshly. "There are nicer ways of waking someone. Yelling in their ears is not one of them." He removed his hands from his eyes.

Wilbur gave him a wide grin. "I'll keep that in mind, but seriously I thought you would want to know we just arrived in Moorestown's city limits."

Caleb rolled his eyes then turned his attention to the city they were flying through. Tall buildings of different colors, shapes, and heights pass them by. The reflection of their flying car present in every glass wall of the outer buildings. Tall street lamps lined along the buildings and sidewalks below. Something different than Todayland had. The buildings in his city had lights built into the structure. No need to have lamps within the city, but the park had some.

The sky had other flying cars that made their way through to get them to their daily tasks. Whether it was work, grocery shopping, or just going out for a fun day in the city. Caleb looked around the larger city than his home in fascination. Everything seemed so different. Better. He rested his elbow on the door and his chin in his palm. He continued to watch the city pass by with busy people out and about.

"So, where are we starting first?" He asked without taking his eyes away from the window.

"The concert hall." Wilbur spoke. "I wanna talk with the director who invited mom. Find out when the last time he saw her was."

Caleb moved his eyes to glance at him from the corner. "Alright. How far is it?"

"Not too far. Just a few more blocks and it will be on our left a little way after we make a right turn." Wilbur never turned his head to look in Caleb's direction. He kept his eyes straight ahead.

"Mmm." Caleb hummed while he turned his eyes back to the window.

The silence only lasted a few short minutes before one of the two spoke again.

"Where did you learn to drive a car, Wilbur?" Caleb asked. "I don't know many thirteen-year-old's who can drive."

Wilbur gave a nervous chuckle. "Ah, well, that is an excellent question." He continued his nervous laugh.

"Would you stop? That is annoying. You don't have to tell me I was just trying to start a conversation."

Wilbur's laugh became quiet. "I have a habit of sneaking into the garage and taking my dad's time machine out for several spins. He showed me how all the controls work when I asked him the first time we used it." Wilbur turned to give him a wide grin. "Probably wasn't his smartest move, but hey, I'm not gonna complain."

Caleb turned his head to look at Wilbur with surprise and excitement. "Your dad invented a time machine?!"

"Two actually." His hands turned the wheel of the car to the right.

The excitement grew inside Caleb. "That's amazing! Where all have you gone? Is it weird to go back in time? Wait, have you only ever gone into the past? Have you been to the future?"

Wilbur raised a brow and turned to look at him before he turned back to the sky. "You really need to learn how to ask one question at a time, Caleb."

Caleb turned his head with his cheeks burned in embarrassment. "Sorry. I'll work on it."

"We can talk about time travel later." Wilbur lowered the car onto the asphalt behind a shorter building. "Right now, we need to focus on why we are here." He turned the car off and undid his seatbelt.

"People won't think it's strange for two teenage kids to ask questions and poke their noses around?" He wondered with raised brows. "I mean I would find it strange."

Wilbur had his hand around the silver door handle and was ready to pull it. "As long as you don't look and act guilty and let me do all the talking then we should be fine."

"Rude."

"You can ask the people we question anything you think might be helpful to find my mom, just don't look so guilty about it. Can you handle that?" Wilbur asked. Caleb knew he meant well by his words. He knew he only wanted to find his mom.

"Yeah, I can handle that." Caleb said.

After he took his own seatbelt off and slipped out of the car, both boys headed around the building to walk on the sidewalk that passed by the revolving front door. On the outside the building was made of clean, red bricks and several stories high with a large glass dome in the center. Or what looked like the center to Caleb. Caleb followed behind Wilbur. Through the revolving door they both entered into the concert hall. They crossed through, up the small set of stairs and down the wide room until they came up to three sets of doors spaced out. The entire way, Caleb saw how historic the inside seemed to be. The floor both of carpet and marble. Gold bordered between the carpet and the marble encased the carpet. In the wide hall they walked down, was just the maroon carpet and the marble walls. Gold borders created large squares in the walls and a historic painting in each square.

Wilbur pushed one of the doors open and Caleb followed behind. When he walked through the door he saw a room that seemed to be too large for the size of the building. Rows upon rows of folded emerald, fabric chairs. All next to the other. Only an arm rest separated them. The rows moved in a downward motion. The next row was lower than the one before it. Like he was standing at the top of a hill and he stared down the slope. At the bottom, where the line of chairs stopped was a tall, dark woodened stage. Heavy looking curtains the same color as the chairs with gold stitched into a pattern of swirls between a thick border near the bottom.

Standing on the stage, bright heavy light lit the stage, stood three different people. Two women and a man. The women look similar, but one was taller than the other. The taller one had short, light brown hair. The shorter one had longer hair that was nearly black. Both girls wore identical clothing. White and silver button up shirt that was tucked into a plain knee length black skirt. Both had matching white vans. The man was taller than both girls. He had a nice, expensive looking black suit on. He was missing the jacket, but he had a button up vest that he wore over the pure white dress shirt. A gold tie was pressed under the vest and wrapped around his neck. His black pants pressed and wrinkle free. Caleb had never seen shoes so shiny in his life. His hair even seemed to shin in its slick back hair style.

"Excuse me, Sir."

Wilbur's voice brought him back from his examination of the room and of the people he saw. He halted his steps to keep himself from connecting with Wilbur's back. The man and the two young girls turned to look at them both. He had stopped mid-sentence to glance at them.

"The concert hall is closed boys. You shouldn't be in here." The man said.

"I know, but I really need to talk with the director. It's important." Wilbur said in a calm voice.

Caleb felt his palms begin to damp with nervous sweat. He flexed his fingers in and curled them back into his palms while the conversation continued.

The man turned back to the girls and told them he would speak to them later before he turned back to face them. Caleb continued to flex and curl his fingers. Fear of him kicking them out.

"I am the director of this hall. What is it you need?" He looked over his watch that was clasped around his wrist. "I am very busy with getting my next performance up and ready by next week. I don't have much time for chitchat."

Wilbur gave him a smile and held a palm out. "I don't wanna waste your time. I just wanted to ask a few questions then I'll be out of your hair. I promise."

"Questions about what?" He raised a bushy gray brow in wonder.

Wilbur opened his backpack and pulled out a composition book and a pen. He tucked the book under his arm while he dug in the bag again. Caleb didn't even notice Wilbur had grabbed the bag from the car until then. He pulled out a picture frame and showed the man the picture behind the glass.

"About her." Wilbur handed over the frame when the man held a hand out for it. They both waited while he looked the picture over.

"Yes, Francesca Robinson. She performed here two Sunday's ago I think it was." He said. His eyes didn't leave the photo. "She played beautifully. Just like she did when she was younger, but even better now. It is a shame she stopped."

Wilbur looked at Caleb with a curious and confused glance before he turned his head back to the aged man. "You used to watch her play as a young child?" Wilbur questioned.

"I was her teacher, son." He said with a smile.

Wilbur scribbled that down in the notebook.

"Franny was my star student. Always eager to please and work hard to play a piece perfectly even if she already did. It was a real shame the day she told me she was never going to play again." His voice grew saddened.

"So it was you who sent the invitation?" Wilbur asked.

The elder man gave a nod. "Yeah. The day she came to inform me of her decision she told me that she would play for me again one day in the future. So, I thought my last Symphony would be a great time to hear her play again. It is strange you know."

"What is, Sir?" Caleb asked while Wilbur continued to scribble his pen across the paper.

"She said she was never going to play again, but hearing her play that night, it sounded like she never stopped. She truly is talented." The man gave Caleb a smile.

"Sir,"

"Please call me Mark. Sir makes me feel old like my father." He gave a laugh.

"Mark," Wilbur quickly wrote that at the top of the page, "when was the last time you saw my mom?"

He raised a brow. "I don't know who your mom is kid, so I would say never."

Wilbur was about to speak with annoyance before Caleb spoke up and stopped him from upsetting the man, and getting them kicked out. "Mrs. Robinson is his mom, Mark."

The elderly man widens his eyes in surprise and glanced from the picture to Wilbur several times. "Ah yes, I don't know why I didn't see it earlier. You look just like her at that age. A spitting image in fact."

"Are you saying I look like a girl?!" Wilbur was shocked.

"No, no. You look very much a boy, but you have many of her features. Her eyes, hair, and thinness. Your mother was just a thin as you are. I'm a little hurt she never told me that she had a son."

"Mark?" Wilbur interrupted.

"Yes? I'm sorry. What was the question?"

"When was the last time you saw my mom?" Wilbur had his pen ready to write.

Caleb looked at the man who thought a moment.

"Just before the Symphony started. I was going to stop by her hotel room and catch up before she left, but when I got there she was already gone. I figured I would just write to her later. See if she would like to go out to lunch and I could catch up with her then."

In the middle of his scribbled writing, Wilbur stopped and looked up at his mother's former teacher. "So, you didn't ask her to say in this city for a few more days?"

"No."

Wilbur glanced at Caleb and Caleb turned his way. "So, I guess that confirms that she has been missing since that night." Caleb spoke.

"I heard that she is missing. I truly hope she is found, son." Mark held the frame back out for Wilbur to take.

"It's Wilbur not son." Wilbur spoke while he shoved the picture frame back into his bag and his notebook after. He tucked the pen behind his ear.

"Did you say Wilbur?" Mark asked with wide eyes.

"Yeah. Wilbur Matthew Robinson." He held his hand out to shake the elder mans.

The man grabbed Wilbur's hand, but he didn't shake it. He simply held Wilbur's smaller hand within his wrinkling one. "That was my son's name. Wilbur Matthew."

"Was?" Caleb questioned.

"Yes, he died shortly after he was born. He had an infection in his lungs. Doctors didn't catch it until there was nothing they could do. I lost my son a few days after my wife died in child birth. Your mother was there for me after. She brought me baked goods. Would listen to me ramble and offer comfort. She became a dear friend and daughter to me as well as my favorite student. I feel deeply honored she named you after my dear boy." The man wiped his eye. "Anyway, don't listen to the speech of an old man."

"I'm sorry about your family." Caleb said.

"It's quiet alright. It was years ago." He gave them a smile. "I hope the police find that man who took your mother, Wilbur. I will keep her in my prayers."

Wilbur gave a nod. "Thank you, Mark. I hope they do too."

Caleb gave the man a wave goodbye before he followed Wilbur out of the building. When he exited the revolving door, he saw Wilbur stood in front of the building. His hands balled into fists at his sides. Shoulders tensed and eyes snapped closed.

Caleb placed a hand on his shoulder and that seemed to help relax his friend. "You alright?"

Wilbur sighed. "I wish people would stop asking me that question. It gets annoying to hear it repeated."

"Maybe if you didn't show your emotions on your face so much people wouldn't have the urge to ask you." Caleb said with a small smile.

Wilbur looked over to him. "Touché. But yes and no. I'm okay in the sense that I feel like I am helping to find her. No because I hate to think this is real."

"I know, but we did get some good information from Mark."

"Yeah." Wilbur adjusted the strap to his bag. "Come on."

Wilbur started down to the left. Caleb skipped to catch up and walk beside him. "Where are we going now?"

"If I'm correct about why the police arrested my dad, then I wanna see something." Wilbur answered. "The restaurant we ate at that night is a few blocks down this way. The hotel my mom stayed in is a few blocks from the concert hall. A little further from the restaurant, but to test my theory then we need to go there first."

Caleb raised a brow in a curious nature. "What theory is that, Wilbur?"

"The police think my dad did everything. From breaking into his own company to abusing my mom. If she did disappear Sunday night and they think it was my dad, then the only time he could have done it was the time he left the table for a business call. I'm going to see how long it takes to get to the hotel from the restaurant. To see if it was even possible for my dad to pull it off."

"How long was he away from the dinner table?" Caleb wondered while he tripped over his shoe that scuffed on the sidewalk. He caught a glimpse of Wilbur's worn and dirty convers he had found in the back of his mother's car.

"I think forty at the most."

Both boys walked down the sidewalk in silence as they tried to blend into the crowd. Keep the attention away from themselves. Walking down the sidewalk, Caleb felt like an ant. The buildings seemed to be much larger than they did in the flying car. They made a few turns and crossed over a few cut-lined crosswalks before Wilbur stopped them both. His eyes looked across the way. Caleb followed his line of sight and saw a one story building. A black iron fence wrapped around the front with green vine-like plants all along the fence. Different colored flowers within the green mess.

"That it?" Caleb wondered.

"Yep." Wilbur dug into his bag again. He moved things around until he finally pulled out a fancy camera. He put the strap around his neck and pushed his bag so it rested behind him.

"Wow. You get great presents."

"Oh, this is my mom's." Wilbur turned it on. "I, uh, borrowed it."

"You mean stole?" Caleb crossed his arms over his chest.

"No." Wilbur shot him a half annoyed glance. "Borrowed without permission."

"There's a difference?"

"Yes."

Caleb rolled his eyes. _'He stole it.'_

Wilbur did a few things with the camera. The lens moved out then back in a few times until he finally hit the shutter button. Caleb heard the soft click. He looked at the small, charming looking restaurant while his friend took several photos. People were sat outside in the sunlight. Simple white, cloth umbrella's hung either opened or closed above the small circle tables.

"Come on." Wilbur whined. "Why do they keep coming out all blurred? I hope I didn't break mom's camera! She'll kill me and dance around on my ashes." Wilbur panicked.

Caleb laughed at him.

"I'm not kidding. She really will." Caleb raised a brow at him. "Alright I'm over exaggerating a little, but she really will hurt me."

Caleb held his hand out for the camera. "You're probably not being still enough."

Caleb put the strap around his neck and faced the building. He looked at the screen and adjusted the zoom. The bright sunlight seemed to drown out the picture, so Caleb went to the features. He put the camera in afternoon mood, and the light in the picture adjusted. It no longer took over and the colors settled. Satisfied with the way it looks, Caleb lifted his finger to the shutter button. He pressed down on it slightly and let the lens focus before he snapped the photo. Once the shutter clicked, Cale lowered the camera down and looked at the adjustable screen. The picture came out perfect.

"You probably moved the camera to soon or was shaky, but the camera itself is perfectly fine." Caleb smiled and showed Wilbur the picture.

"Thanks."

"No problem." Caleb removed the strap from his neck and held the camera out for Wilbur to take.

"No, you seem to know how to actually use it. You hold on to it. You can take all the photos." Caleb shrugged and put the camera across his chest and let it rest on his side. "Okay." Wilbur pulled out his phone and touched the screen a few times. "I have the timer ready. The hotel is in that direction." Wilbur pointed toward the right. "You can see the top of it from here."

Wilbur was right. They could. It had a smaller glass dome at the top with a pole and waving flags. Wilbur started the timer and headed off in the direction of the hotel. They both moved in a pace Wilbur would think his dad had to be in to actually get to the hotel and back to dinner within the time he was gone. Caleb held the camera with his hand to keep it from bouncing against him. As they moved through the buildings and down the many different sidewalks, Caleb noticed several people look at them funny. He tried to keep his eyes on Wilbur, but he would look at others throughout. Caleb did his best to keep from running people down, but the crowd was tight and he did bump into people. He threw a ' _sorry'_ over his shoulder when he passed by.

Soon both boys came out onto the sidewalk across the way from the hotel's entrance. Caleb looked from the first story all the way to the dancing flags at the top.

' _That is one tall hotel building. Looks fancy too. Expensive.'_ Caleb thought with amazement.

"Even at the pace we had, there was no way my dad could get from the restaurant to the hotel and back within forty minutes." Wilbur spoke up beside him. "It took us thirty to get here."

"What if he drove?"

"No, dad left the keys on the table."

"Well it was later in the night. There was less people, so that could have a factor in the time."

"Yeah, but not by much. My dad would have no time to do anything and still get back to dinner in the time he did." Wilbur turned his phone screen off and shoved it in the back pocket of his jeans.

"What time is it?" Caleb wondered. He left his phone in the car that he hoped Wilbur had the common sense to lock.

"A little after one in the afternoon. Why?" Wilbur asked.

"Okay, so my dad doesn't know I'm gone yet." Caleb adjusted the camera. "You do know that when I don't show up after school he will worry right?"

Wilbur gave a sharp nod.

"Has your dad noticed yet? Called? Texted you?"

"No, I don't even know if my dad has been released from the station yet. Plus, I don't think he'll worry for a while. Carl was the last person to see me, and I had locked myself in my room. I have a bit until someone notices." Wilbur said with confidence in his voice.

' _I'm not so sure I'll have that much luck. My dad is already home. After some time, he'll wonder where I am. He'll blow my phone up and worry more when I don't answer.'_ He gasps and widens his eyes.

"What?" Wilbur asked in surprise.

"When my dad notices something is up because I'm nonexistent after school, what if he goes to your house to check there?" Wilbur seemed to process what he said. "Then both our dad's find out we have disappeared. They could send a search party out to look for us."

"Okay, okay calm down. You'll make yourself pass out with hyperventilating like that, Caleb."

Caleb nodded in understanding and worked to calm his breathing. Once the air was entering and exiting like normal, Caleb looked back at Wilbur.

"We still have some time left before any of that over thinking happens. Just calm down and let's get inside. It's chilly out here."

Both boys made their way across and entered through the revolving door of glass and gold metal.

' _I think I'm gonna be sick if I keep going through those kind of doors.'_

The interior of the hotel amazed Caleb just like the concert hall did, but he didn't get much time to look around because Wilbur was fast paced through the lobby. He had to jog to catch up to his side. He reached a hand out to grab his arm and stop his feet in their determined stride.

"Hold on, Wilbur."

"What is it?" Wilbur asked with annoyance and lowered brows.

Caleb glanced at the front desk behind the indoor water fountain. He turned his attention back to the boy he called his friend. "How do you plan to get inside the room she stayed in? The police have probably been here and have it closed off."

Wilbur pulled his hand away from his arm and gave him a confident smile. "Let me worry about that. Sneaking around is my special talent. How do you think I get to use my father's prototype inventions? I have ways of having fun. Just follow my lead. Don't look guilty and just relax."

Caleb took a deep breath in and followed behind Wilbur when he started to move again. The boys approached the front desk and the woman behind it with a magazine in her hands. She didn't look in their direction when they stepped up. Caleb looked at Wilbur from the corner of his eyes and wondered what he would do next.

He cleared his throat. "Excuse me, ma'am."

The woman tilted her head in their direction and gave them a bored expression. "Yes?" Even her voice sounded bored and like she didn't want to be bothered. "What can I do for you?"

Caleb swallowed the formed lump in his throat.

"Yes. My mom is staying here, or she was." Wilbur placed the picture frame on the desk top for her to see. Caleb saw she barely glanced at it before she looked at Wilbur again.

"Yeah, what of it?"

Wilbur didn't seem to faze at her rude tone of voice. "Well, she was taken from this hotel and the police searched the room she had stayed in. I was-"

"Oh right." The woman interrupted Wilbur and popped a bubble with her gum. "I know who you're talking about. The lady who is all over the news. Yeah, the room was searched. Why do you care, boy?"

Caleb saw Wilbur's temper was getting worn thin. The rude tone the woman had and her lack of sense for what he had already told her only seem to make him irritated. Wilbur was about to speak, but Caleb reached out to touch both his shoulders and laughed nervously.

"Um, we were wondering if, maybe, you would be kind enough to tell us the room number and the code to get in."

The woman glared at Caleb. "And why would I do that?"

"Well, the police forgot some of my friend's mother's things they had found. They gave us permission to go in and retrieve them. It would mean a lot to my friend here." Caleb gave her his best kind smile he could manage without it seeming fake. He too was irritated with her attitude. He squeezed Wilbur's shoulders in hope he would remain quiet.

"Look kid," she straightened her body and went back to reading her magazine, "I was told that no one was allowed inside that room. No matter the reason. You are just going to have to go to the police and have them come back and get the stuff for you."

Wilbur went to speak again, but Caleb clamped his hand over his mouth to muffle his words. He gave her another smile. "Thank you. Sorry for taking up your busy time."

She only grunted in response.

Caleb pulled Wilbur away from the front desk and over to the furniture provided in the lobby. He made sure they were both hidden from the desk before he removed his saliva covered palm from his friend's mouth.

"Gross Wilbur." Caleb wiped his hand on his shirt.

"Don't ever do that again. I don't like being manhandled, Caleb."

"What did you expect me to do Wilbur? You were about to make a scene and probably get the security put on us. I had to step in." Caleb explain in defense.

Wilbur turned his upper body to look at the front desk again. "Awe man, my picture is still up there."

"Don't worry. I have an idea." Caleb said.

Wilbur turned his attention back to him. "You have an idea to sneak around? Alright. What is it?"

"She can't stay at that desk all the time. So I think we should wait until she leaves and then bolt up those stairs. It shouldn't be too hard to find a room blocked off by the police."

"That is a good plan, but we don't have the code to get in. Allow me to add to your idea." Wilbur turned back to face the desk. "When she does leave, I'm going to search their records for the room number and code my mom had."

Caleb forced Wilbur to face him again. "Wilbur, that is illegal. You can't just go through their system. If you are caught you can go to jail."

"At this moment, I don't really care. I'm gonna do whatever I have to to find out what exactly happened to my mom and find out where she is. Even if I get into trouble along the way. But the goal is to not get into trouble. That is why you will be the lookout while I'm in the system."

Caleb widened his eyes. "Are you-"

"Crazy? Yes, yes I am."

Caleb rolled his eyes and slumped against the plush cushion of the couch. Wilbur had his eyes over the top and that is how they waited. Caleb occupied his time by moving his eyes all over the high vaulted ceiling and over the fancy decorated lobby. Not many people came through the door and the lobby was pretty much quiet and deserted. The water from the fountain created a dripped sound and after a while it started to annoy Caleb. A very loud chime from a clock echoed throughout the lobby in a blared sound that rattled his ears. He was glad it only blared three times. Caleb had counted them. It was three in the afternoon. Had they really been sitting there for an hour? Caleb didn't feel like they had, but that was what the clock told him. Time seemed to be passing them by and it was getting closer to the time he would get home.

"Caleb." Wilbur hissed in his ear to get his attention. "Caleb, she is leaving. Come on."

Caleb and Wilbur both shot up from the couch and made their way across the lobby, bent over, and hurried steps. Caleb nearly tripped along the way but grabbed the desk for support. He slid on his knees behind the desk and glanced up at Wilbur. He was crouched before the computer so he was hidden by the desk.

"Keep an eye out for anyone Caleb. Let me know if someone comes over here."

Caleb gave a nod and rounded over the desk so he had a clear view of the lobby.

"This is so illegal." Caleb whispered loud enough for Wilbur to hear.

"I don't actually have to break into the system. She didn't log out."

"Yeah, like that is supposed to make this better." Caleb said sarcastically.

"It does, but it makes it easier." Wilbur replied.

Caleb heard the _clicking_ of the keyboard as Wilbur entered the information he needed. Caleb scanned his eyes over the empty lobby, but not a soul could be seen. The nerves in his body were sparked and made his palms sweat. His body shook.

"Hurry up, Wilbur!" He hissed.

"I'm almost there." He shot back.

He heard the _click_ of the mouse. Caleb saw a young man headed in their direction. His eyes widened.

"Wilbur, you need to hurry. Someone is headed this way!" He shouted in a whisper.

Wilbur didn't answer him. Caleb watched the man get closer to them and he grew more worried. He pushed himself back behind the desk and crawled over to Wilbur.

"Got it." Wilbur fell to the floor with a smile.

"Good, now we need to move!" Caleb urged.

With a nod, Wilbur raced from behind the desk and headed up the stairs. Caleb followed behind. They didn't straighten their backs until they reached the first story of rooms. Both had heavy breaths while they looked down to the lobby. The man reached behind the desk and sat in the stool provided. Caleb breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was a close one." Caleb said.

"You have to admit it was kinda fun."

Caleb shot him a glare that told him to knock it off. "Did you get the information?"

"Did I get the information?" Wilbur crossed his arms over his chest. "No, Caleb I didn't get the information." Caleb wacked his arm. "Ow! Yes, of course I got it."

"What floor?"

Wilbur opened his palm. "Fifth."

Both boys walked across the landing and to the awaiting elevators. Caleb pushed the up button and tapped his foot while they both waited for it to open. They walked into the one that greeted them, and Wilbur was the one to push the floor number. Caleb leaned against the glass wall with his arms crossed. The glass doors closed and it moved up to take them to the floor number they desired.

"That was really good quick thinking you did back there Caleb." Wilbur said with his back turned to him. "What you said to that rude lady. I never would have thought to say that. Too bad she was mean and wouldn't let us into the room the easy way."

"Eh, it's whatever." Caleb gave a shrug.

The elevator gave a soft ding before the glass doors opened. A woman stood on the other side, and both boys slipped out. Wilbur lead the way to the room number they needed. It wasn't long until Caleb saw the police tape across the door in an x shape. Caleb waited while Wilbur punched in the code since he didn't have the hand print. The light turned green and the door unlocked.

Wilbur slipped past the police tape and into the room. Caleb followed after. The room was lit with the sunlight that came in through the windows and opened French door. Wilbur stood before the dark wood, round table in the middle of the entry hall.

"The flowers my father gave my mom are still here."

Caleb stepped up to the table and the large vase of dying flowers. Cale raised a brow. "How do you know they are from your father?" Wilbur handed over a small white card. "Oh." Wilbur gave a side smile and wandered further into the room.

Caleb placed the card down on the table and followed after Wilbur. The living area of the hotel suite was neat and clean. The two couches with a coffee table between. A writing desk against the wall on the left side of the room. A wire waste basket filled with crumbled papers next to it. There was a phone on the desk and a lamp. A set of double white doors on the wall; closed. Caleb looked to the right side of the room and found Wilbur by the large black polished piano. Another set of white double doors on the right wall.

"This is a very nice, clean suite Wilbur." Caleb observed.

Wilbur nodded his head. "I agree. It is nice."

"No." Caleb said. "No, Wilbur. This room is really neat and clean. Like it would for a new person to stay in."

"Maybe room service came in and cleaned it." Wilbur suggested.

"I don't think so because the flowers would have been thrown out. And when police arrive at the scene of a crime they leave everything like it was." Caleb explained. "If your mom was taken from inside this room it doesn't look like it. There are no signs of a struggle. There are no signs your mother even stayed in this room. None of her things are in here."

Wilbur pointed to the doors on the left. "You check in there. I'll check this room."

Caleb walked up to the doors and found the bedroom. The room was the same as the living area. The bed made in a way only the staff knew how. The bathroom clean and shiny. Caleb didn't find a single thing out of place. He walked back into the sitting room.

"Nothing."

"Same for me." Wilbur said while he walked back into the room. "Where is my mom's belongings?"

Caleb kept his eyes moving about the room. In hope to find something out of place. Something that didn't belong. "He could have grabbed all her stuff and took it with him."

"Why would he do that?"

"Make it look like she left the hotel room." Caleb shrugged.

"My mom had to have been taken from the room." Wilbur mumbled more to himself.

"Why? She could have been grabbed on her way here."

Wilbur plopped down on the couch and placed his bag on the glass coffee table. "Someone would have heard her scream. There were plenty of people out in the rain that night."

"If he took her in the room, how would he have gotten in? If he got in through the door, how would you mother have not heard it open?" Caleb threw his questions out, but was more of asking himself out loud. "There is no way for him to surprise her if he came in that way."

"What if he was lying in wait for her?" Wilbur suggested.

"How did he get in the room? The front desk can't hand out the code to anyone's room. Your mom would have had to let him in."

"I don't see mom just letting him in."

"So, if he did surprise her he had to already be in here." Caleb mumbled out loud in thought

Caleb turned his head to look about the room again. He kept looking back at the French door that was open. He tilted his head slightly as he looked at it. His eyes squinted in thought. His finger tapped in midair.

"What if," Caleb straighten his head, "what if he came in through the French doors and waited for her?"

"Huh?" Wilbur was obviously confused.

"Hear me out. When police arrive at a crime scene they leave it exactly how they find it."

"Yeah. You said that already." Wilbur spoke.

"So, that French door must have been opened by someone. With it being stormy that night I doubt your mom opened it, so the guy who took her must have opened it."

Wilbur leaned forward in his seat. Elbows on his knees. "But I'm sure they were locked. How did he open them from the outside?"

Caleb looked in Wilbur's direction. "I don't know." Caleb walked over to the open door. He twisted the golden handle a few times and saw that it was still in good condition. Same with the deadbolt and latch on the other door. The door hadn't been tampered with. Caleb bent over with his hands rested on his knees.

"What are you doing, Caleb?"

"Checking." Caleb answered.

"Checking what? That the door has a lock?" Wilbur questioned.

Caleb only turned his head to give Wilbur a glare. He straightened his body and stood before the opened door with his back to the balcony. He looked at the door that lead to the hallway across from him. He tilted his head, rubbed his fingertips together, then twisted his upper body to look out the balcony. His mouth was slightly parted when he faced forward again.

"I think he did come in through this door."

"How would he have gotten it open? If it was locked and the door doesn't seem to be busted open, how did he get in through it?"

"He opened it from the inside."

"Why would he open it from the inside and then come back through it to get in if he was already in?" Wilbur questioned with much confusion.

Caleb leaned his weight on the back of the couch opposite of the one Wilbur sat on. "He broke into your dad's company right?"

Wilbur nodded his head.

"From what you told me, he got in through the back but that door has a scanner similar to the one used here. He got in through that door. I bet he did the same way for this hotel room."

Wilbur looked at him unsure. "Uh huh, okay so what about the French door?"

"I'm just gonna speak my thoughts here okay?" Caleb pushed away from the couch and started to walk about the room with his arms waved around while he spoke. "Let's say he did get in through the hotel door. Someway, we don't know how, but he did. He probably came here around a time most people would be sleeping, so your mom would be too. He planned on taking her that first go around, but something happens and he has to get out quickly. So he goes through that door." Caleb pointed toward the balcony. "He is going to try again, so he makes it easy on himself. He makes the door look like it is closed, but not really. When he comes back that Sunday night he slips in through the French door. Probably leaves it open in his hast to hide until your mom came back. When he sees the right time he attacks her. Drugged her and slipped out of the hotel."

Wilbur blinked a few times. "That's crazy."

Caleb shrugged. "That's how I would do it." He slumped against a wall. "At least."

"Maybe this was a bad idea. Even after all the running around and questioning, I haven't found anything new to help aid in my mother's location." Wilbur spoke with self-doubt. "I'm no better than the police are. No closer."

Caleb sat on the couch opposite of him. "Don't give up yet Wilbur."

"Why? I'm no detective. I can't solve a case if professionals can't."

Caleb pulled his bag across the table and he dug inside it. "I don't think Wilbur Robinson is one to give up so easily." He pulled out everything inside the bag. "I'm not gonna let you throw in the towel that easy. We can do this. We can find a lead."

"I think we switched roles here."

Caleb grabbed the several clear evidence bags that had been pulled from Wilbur's school bag. "Wilbur are these the messages sent to your father?"

"Yeah."

"You are such a thief." Caleb looked at each picture and letter that was in a bag. He lowered his brows in thought. "Why would he send taunting letters and pictures of your mom?"

Wilbur shrugged his shoulders and grabbed a bag from him. His eyes looked over the picture he got. "Maybe to prove to my dad that he has the power in the situation?" He guessed.

Caleb read the letters again. "Which stuff was with what delivery?"

"Um," Wilbur grabbed all the bags and began to separate them into two piles, "these three photos came with this smaller letter. And the longer letter came with this picture and the necklace."

Caleb studied the two stacks. "Which one did I delivery to you?"

Wilbur pointed to the stack with the smaller letter. "This one."

Caleb grabbed the letter from the pile and scanned the words.

' _Can you find her, Cornelius? The information you require is with you. This is the last you shall hear from me or her. I will be waiting for your presence.'_

He read the sentences over and over again. His brows lowered in deep thought while his brain tried to process their meaning. Wilbur looked at the photos laid out before him.

"Wilbur, I'm gonna read this out loud and tell me what you get from the words." He was given a nod. After Caleb read the letter again for the hundredth time, he placed it back on the coffee table, and waited for Wilbur to say what he thought.

"He seems to be over confident." Wilbur muttered.

"He's challenging your dad."

"In what way?" Wilbur questioned. His full attention on Caleb.

"He asks your dad if he can find her. That he will be waiting because the information your dad needs to find her is with him."

Wilbur rubbed his forehead. "What information does he have that could tell him where she is?"

Caleb grabbed all the bags into his hands and held them between them. "The pictures. The answer you and everyone else has been wondering is right here. The answer to her location is in the pictures."

"Why would he do that? It seems stupid for him to give us the location."

Caleb put the bags down on the table between them. "This whole time he has made it clear he wants your dad to feel pain. The target his him. He is challenging your dad. He wants him to figure the location out, so he will race to it and come to face Everett."

Wilbur widened his eyes the moment all the information connected. "The pictures are the map."

Caleb smiled. "The pictures are the map."

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 **Review your wonderful thoughts!  
See you guys in the next chapter.**


	49. Chapter Thirty-Three

_Guest Reviewer: I'm glad you enjoyed that last chapter so much. I enjoyed writing it. Here is the next chapter, and I hope you like it just as much. Thank you for all your support. It means a lot to me._

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Chapter Thirty-Three  
Cornelius

 _Todayland: Tuesday, September 1st, 2037_

 **H** e tried to distract himself from the thousands of worries that made their way around his brain with a book. He had the book. The book was opened to the first chapter, first page. He was sat on the couch in his bedroom. An elbow pressed into the arm rest, fingers in his temple, and his other hand held the book in his lap. The spin supported against his thigh of the leg he had crossed. The book didn't hold his attention. He had probably read the first sentence a dozen times. His eyes kept lifting up from the worn pages to anything else inside the room.

To the other books in either his shelf or Franny's.

The trinkets his wife had stored on her shelves.

Or any of the pictures frames. Whether they were hung on the walls or placed in the bookshelves.

With a heavy sigh he closed the book in his lap. He pushed himself up from the couch and made his way to the bookshelf he used. He slipped the book back in the empty slot from where he pulled it from and slipped his hands into the pockets of his fresh pair of jeans. He turned his head and caught sight of the long picture frame Franny had placed on the mantle years ago.

The curved glass frame rested in the middle of the mantle. A long picture of his family from the last family gathering they had when Wilbur was three. Two white candles, encased in slightly taller glass, rested at each end of the mantle. All four where different sizes. A thin crystal vase was placed on the mantle between the frame and candles which held one remaining rose. Wilbur's Mother's Day gift. The vase, when he had given it to her, had five soft pink roses. Four of which were real and one was fake. Franny and himself, at the time, didn't know that, so when Wilbur told his mother that he would love her until the last rose died she was very confused. Cornelius saw the sadness on her face after the roses started to die a little while later. When the one rose stayed fully bloomed she asked Wilbur about it. He didn't answer her. It wasn't until Franny went to change the water and put fresh food in the vase, that she figured out the one remaining rose was fake. She cried and engulfed her son in a hug that day. To that day, Cornelius still wasn't sure how Wilbur came up with that idea.

Cornelius looked at the fake rose in the large mirror's reflection that hung above the fireplace and fit perfectly between the bookcases. He tried to smile, but his lips didn't lift.

Franny had decorated this area of the bedroom shorty after they began to share a room. In fact, she added charm to every room of the house almost. She made the walls of his house a home. Warm, welcoming, and wonderfully inviting. Now, it felt like it did before she moved in. Just a place to live inside the marble walls.

With a heavy heart, he fell on the couch. His stomach connected with the plush cushions. He grabbed a throw pillow and tucked it under his chest and his arms crossed over it. He dropped his chin into the decorative pillow and closed his eyes.

He was alone.

Wilbur had locked himself in his room and refused to speak or open the door for anyone. Not even Carl was able to get him out when he was informed after he returned from his long hours at the police station.

His mother was too busy baking up multiplies of every sweet she knew to talk with him. When she wasn't cluttering the kitchen up with sugar, she was in her bedroom wallowing.

His father made the most of his time by tossing out the sweets no one had eaten and taking longer than needed walks with Buster. Sometimes Cornelius didn't see his father at all.

Gaston and Art kept to themselves. He was thankful for that because that meant they weren't trying to kill him. A small part of his mind wondered if they were secretly planning a way to kill him in the middle of the night, but the rational part of him knew that was unlikely. Franny would never forgive them if she returned to find him dead at the hands of her brothers. At least he hoped that would be the case.

The knock on his bedroom door made his eyes crunch tightly.

' _Please go away. Just don't see me, pretend I'm not here, I don't care what the reason is, just walk away and leave me to be alone.'_ Cornelius let a breath out. _'I just wanna be alone.'_

The door creaked open and he heard footsteps come into the room. He opened his eyes, but didn't move to sit up and see who it was that entered his bedroom. He waited to see if they would say anything or leave because they didn't see him.

"Cornelius?" He knew who the voice belonged to. He couldn't mistake it, so he had no need to lift his head up or his body. "I know you're on the couch, son." Lucille's voice spoke from beside him. "So you can get up and stop pretending your invisible."

Cornelius removed his crossed arms and pushed himself up from the cushions. He forced his body to stand and he faced his mother. Her cheeks were covered in white flour and the apron she had on over her dress was covered in many different splatters of food she had mixed.

"Yes mom? You need help with something?" Cornelius asked her. Not really interested or motivated enough to help out with whatever she needed. He shoved his hands back into the deep pockets of his pants.

She wiped her hands on her apron. "No, I'm fine dear. I just came to tell you a man is at the door and he's asking for you."

Cornelius raised a brow. He didn't hear the doorbell ring and usually you can hear the loud blare anywhere in the house. "It's not the police is it?"

Lucille gave him a small reassuring smile. "No dear. He's not the police, or at least I don't think he is. He not wearing a uniform."

"Alright." Cornelius walked around the couch and placed a hand on his mother's upper back and held his other arm out to lead them from the bedroom.

Both mother and son headed down the second story hall and down the steps to the landing. Lucille touched his arm before she crossed the landing to go down the other set of stairs. She passed the door to Lefty's room. The large purple octopus wasn't with them at the moment. Cornelius had no idea when he would return or where he really went. He moved his legs down the stairs in front of him. Stood near the archway was a man. His hair covered with a worn baseball cap. His fingers shoved inside the front pockets of his khaki colored pants.

The man's face turned in Cornelius' direction when he seemed to notice him approach. His features seemed to liven up and took in a deep breath by the rise and fall of his shoulders. Cornelius recognized the man from the scruff around his face and the happy light in his eyes that was always present.

"Alexander." Cornelius put a small smile on his lips. "What a surprise."

Alexander clapped his hand with Cornelius' out stretched one and gave a large smile of his own. "I'm sorry to just drop by without a notice. I would have called, but I realized I didn't have your number, Mr. Robinson." Alexander explained.

"I think I remember asking you to call me Cornelius. I get called Mr. Robinson enough at work."

"Cornelius." He gave a nod of his head and both men dropped their hands. Alexander slipped his fingers back into the pocket.

"And don't worry about stopping by without notice. What can I do for you?" Cornelius blew off Alexander's unannouncement as nothing. "Wait, did something else happen at Robinson Industries? Because if that is the case I don't wanna hear it. I can't take anything else going wrong. Not right now at least."

"No, no nothing like that." Alexander was quick to reassure him. Cornelius relaxed his shoulders and gave a nod. "I was actually hoping that I would find my son here. Caleb told me how Wilbur wasn't attending school because of all the stuff going on here, which by the way I am deeply sorry and want to offer my support. But my son mentioned something about bringing homework by so Wilbur wouldn't fall behind."

"Thank you, Alexander. That means a lot."

"I don't wanna keep you away from your family at a time like this. I just wanted to grab Caleb so we could have dinner."

"I didn't even realize he came over. Wilbur has locked himself in his room. Away from everyone. I'm surprised he's with Caleb."

"Sometimes a friend is what you need to help get through a difficult time."

Cornelius jerked his head in the direction of Wilbur's room. "We can go check to see if Wilbur kidnapped him. They probably lost track of time playing a video game or something. Teenage boys, what can I say."

"I completely agree. Please lead the way."

Cornelius walked in the direction of his son's room. Both doors closed and had remained that way since he had arrived back home. The moment his feet stopped, Cornelius leaned his body forward to listen for any sound on the other side, but strangely it was silent. If Caleb was inside with him, then they weren't making any noise, and that was odd to Cornelius. He tapped the back of his hand against the wood and listened hard to see if he could hear the slightest sound of their presence.

"Wilbur?"

When he didn't hear anything, Cornelius lowered his brows behind the rim of his glasses and tapped his knuckles against the door harder and louder that time. Maybe Wilbur hadn't heard his first knock, but again Cornelius hear nothing inside his son's room.

"Wilbur?" Cornelius turned his eyes to glance at Alexander with a questionable expression. "Wilbur, open the door. Caleb's dad is here to pick him up." His fingers tapped the wood a few more times before he grabbed the handle and pushed his way into the room. Cornelius came to face a dark room with the only light from the setting sun. Nothing inside his son's room was on. "Hmm."

"What is it?" Alexander asked while he stepped up beside him. "You find them?"

"No. The boys aren't in here." Cornelius looked around the large room Wilbur spent most of his time in. From the large chargeball screen to the mess on the floor near his desk.

"Anywhere else they could be?" Alexander asked.

"Yes." Cornelius squinted his eyes while he studied the mess of books and papers. "Have you tried to call Caleb?" He removed his eyes from the floor and turned to face the other man.

"Yeah, he didn't answer any of the calls nor replied to my texts." Alexander replied while he checked his phone.

"Well, if they are anywhere else in the house then we can find them rather quickly." Cornelius spoke.

"How is that?"

Cornelius made his way from inside Wilbur's room and back down the hall with Alexander behind him. "There are intercoms placed all throughout the house because it is so large. We use it mainly to call everyone to dinner. Franny uses it to keep track of where Wilbur runs off to during the day."

Both men walk across the family room and to the wall that started at the kitchen entrance and continued until the dining room doors. Cornelius stepped up to the intercom. A rectangular, white speaker with gray buttons. He pressed in one of the buttons that a-lined the right side of the device. His finger moved to the largest gray button and kept his finger pressed into it as a red light turned on.

"Wilbur? Caleb?" He released his finger from the button and waited for a reply. "Caleb your father is here for you." He waited for either of the teen boys to speak from the intercom, but after a few moments Cornelius lowered his brows. "Boys?"

"Is it possible they could be wondering outside?" Alexander offered up.

Cornelius shoved his hand into each of his pockets to search inside them. "They could be." He fished his cell phone from the back pocket of his jeans and turned the screen on. "I'll call Wilbur." He unlocked his phone.

"Is your son usually this hard to find?" Alexander asked in good humor.

Cornelius raised his eyes to glance at him. "Unfortunately yes he is." He pressed the phone to his ear. "That is a clear sign he is up to something he shouldn't be. Which means either he's in trouble, or he is going to be."

His foot began to tap on the marble floor after the first ring sounded in his ear. After the several rings finished and the call went to voicemail, Cornelius hit the red button before Wilbur's recorded message could finished.

"No answer?" Alexander asked.

"Nope. Let me try again." His thumb hit the phone button again and he placed the phone to his ear once more. The familiar tone swam in his ear.

Cornelius moved his body away from the wall and further into the opened space of the family room. His legs paced while he waited for his son to answer. His hand placed against his hip with spread fingers from impatience with his son. From the corner of his eyes Cornelius spotted the door of to the garage opening and a flash of gold entered through the threshold. The call went to voicemail again as Carl closed and locked the garage door. He removed his phone from the side of his face with a loud over-exaggerated sigh.

"Carl?" Cornelius stuffed his phone back into his pocket. "You haven't seen Wilbur running around the house with his friend have you?"

Carl shook his head and Cornelius was sure he could see the disappointment in his eyes. "No." He said simply. "I'm sorry, I haven't seen Wilbur since the early hours this morning before you returned."

Cornelius pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation. "Thank you, Carl. Keep an eye out for him? If you see him let him know I'm looking for him."

"Sure thing." Carl gave a nod.

Alexander came up beside him. "So we have no idea where they could be?"

Cornelius placed both hands on his hips and leaned his body in a more comfortable position. "At the moment no, but they are around here somewhere. They will show up once they notice the time I'm sure."

Alexander tried to relax his face, but it didn't seem to change much from the tensed skin.

"Would you like anything? A drink? My mother has been baking and the kitchen is filled with sweets. You are more than welcome to take something. _More_ than welcome." Cornelius urged him to take as many sweets from his over flooded kitchen.

"No thank you Cornelius. I am alright at the moment." Alexander politely declined.

Cornelius waved his arm to gesture to the house. "Would you like to go and search rooms? See if we can spot them?"

Alexander gave a nod. "Very much so."

Both men started to head down the left side hall before the voice of Carl made Cornelius stop in confusion at the question asked.

"Oh, Cornelius!" Carl had his hand held up in a motion to stop him. "I meant to ask you, did you move Franny's car from the garage?"

His bushy, blonde brow lifted up. "No. I haven't moved her car. It's in the same place she last parked it."

Carl shifted his head from the left to the right. "It was missing when I took the trash out just now. The usual spot is vacant."

"What?" Cornelius grew ever so confused. Without a word, Cornelius headed for the garage.

His shadow followed along the creamy outside wall of the house while he made his way across the back patio. He placed his hand upon the scanner, felt the warmth, and the door opened. He pushed his way inside and flipped the switch to light the dark garage. His eyes immediately looked over to the line of cars.

 _One._

 _Two._

 _Three._

Carl was indeed right. The second car in the line was missing. Franny's personal car was not in its usual spot.

' _Where has my wife's car gone?'_ Cornelius wondered. He quickly made his way back into the main house. _'Everything seems to be disappearing around here.'_

He reentered the family room and walked up to Alexander, who had waited for him. "Well?"

"Yeah, her car is gone." He answered. "I swear I saw it just yesterday." His fingers slipped past his wild strands of hair.

"What does that mean?" Alexander asked.

"I'm not sure."

"Not sure of what it means?" He pressed for a clearer answer.

Cornelius rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not really sure of anything at the moment. Just let me think a moment."

His lips mumbled words to soft for even himself to hear clearly. His fingers pressed into his eyes harder than he needed and when he opened them again he saw several dots dance across his vision.

"Oh Cornelius." His blue eyes looked around to find his mother who had spoken up. Her fingers gripped on a hand towel close to her chest. "I was wondering if you were the one to move the things that were on the coffee table."

"What things?"

"The things sent to you. They were on the coffee table, but earlier today I noticed they were gone. I was curious if you were the one to move them."

Cornelius spun on his shoes to face the coffee table she referred to, and once again they were right about something missing. The clear baggies that were once on the table were indeed missing.

' _First Wilbur and Caleb. Then Franny's car. Now the messages are gone.'_ Cornelius widened his eyes. _'The car. The evidence. Wilbur and Caleb nowhere to be found. Oh god. Oh no. No. No. No! He wouldn't! Wilbur wouldn't be that stupid!'_ Cornelius tried to yank his phone from his pocket again.

"Cornelius?"

' _You better answer your phone! You are in so much trouble. You better hope I don't find you, Wilbur!_

"What is it?"

Cornelius ignored the person who asked him questions. He pressed the phone to his ear and listened to the ring begin. When the voicemail message finished and the beep signaled he could start talking Cornelius scowled at the wall.

"You better hope that I'm wrong in thinking you're out searching for you mother, because if I find out you are then you better wish you are kidnapped to keep you away from me, Wilbur." Cornelius began his message. "Because when I find you I will kill you, son."

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 **Uh Oh!  
Review!**


	50. Chapter Thirty-Four

_Guest Reviewer: I can't believe you honestly said 'Triggered'! I laughed so hard cause that's pretty much all I hear most of my days. I guess you can say Wilbur triggered his father. Yes, we got to meet Caleb's dad in that chapter and it was fun to finally bring him in. I had meant to introduce him earlier, but he just kept getting pushed back further and further. He finally got the spotlight thought! Thank you for the complement about my writing!_

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Chapter Thirty-Four  
Wilbur

 _Moorestown: Tuesday, September 1st, 2037_

 **H** e dropped the bagged picture back down on the coffee table before him then rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands. He gave a groan before he focused on the teenage boy across from him.

"I don't think I can look at these pictures anymore." He admitted with sadness.

The boy lifted his gaze from the photo he held in his hand. "We just have to keep looking. The letter says your father was given the location for your mother, and the only other things he sent are these." He motioned to the bagged photos. "It's hard, I can imagine, but the longer we look at them the answer will come out."

Wilbur looked away from Caleb with a heavy sigh. His eyes blurred from the buildup of salty tears threatening to slip down his cheeks. With a deep, shaky breath in he dared to speak. "I physically can't look at them anymore tonight. I don't want to see her like that."

"Wilbur," Caleb went to speak, but when Wilbur stood from the couch he stopped.

"You can continue to try and find the answer that avoids our eyes, but I'm gonna take a break." Wilbur walked over to his school bag he had removed from the table and placed against the wall on the floor. He dug inside it until he pulled the picture frame out. "I'm gonna look at this one. Picture my mom like this. Happy with a smile while I try to nap." He moved his body to lay on the couch.

Wilbur held the frame before his face. The picture he took from his father's bookshelf in his room held a photo of only his mother. The background was of a large open meadow, trees were in the far back, naked branches bare of any leaves or vines they held during the spring and summer months. The grass that was once present was covered with a blanket of white snow that seemed to sparkle while his hands swayed the picture. His mother sat in the snow. The skirts of her lice blue dress draped over her legs up to her knees. Her white heels nearly blended in with the snow, but Wilbur could see that they were a fraction brighter than the snow. Her legs were placed to the side of her. One of her long sleeved arms pressed into the snow and held her body weight. The other held a single living flower she had found in that meadow. Her smile was bright for the camera while his dad took the picture. The snow fell from the sky in tiny snowflakes just like the ones that danced in white on his mother's skirts.

Wilbur remembered that last winter to be one of the coldest he had ever experienced. He wasn't one for winter. He much preferred the heat of summer on his skin. He hated bundling up for winter. The itchy hat, heavy coat, scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, and the snow boots laced over his pants. For the picture he held, his mother asked him to hold her coat so she could move freely in the cold. His mother liked the cold months much more than he did.

His eyes grew heavy and he was nearly sleep, the picture frame long since dropped onto his chest, until the loud ring of his phone made him sit up on the couch.

Wilbur turned to look at Caleb who seemed to come to attention at the sound as well. His head lifted from the coffee table to look into his own tired brown ones. Wilbur dropped his eyes to look at what Caleb had looked at. His cell phone rested at the far end of the coffee table. The screen flashed on with a picture of his father. The loud ringtone filled the silence of the hotel suite. When the sound finally stopped, Wilbur looked up to Caleb. He had a frozen look of fear on his face. Wilbur could image Caleb saw the same on his own.

His phone rang again. The screen once again lit up with his father's picture and it vibrated against the glass. Both boys once again just stared at it until the ringing stopped. They waited a moment to see if it would ring a third time, but once they realized it would remain quiet they finally dared to speak.

"That isn't good is it?"

Wilbur shook his head. "Nope."

"Does that mean your dad knows we're gone?"

Wilbur raised his head. "Possibly."

They fell into a quiet silence once more. Both seemed to be too afraid to move themselves from their positions on the couches.

"It's strange that he didn't leave a message for either call." Wilbur observed. "I would think he would have left a threatening voicemail from finding out what I am doing."

Caleb didn't respond to him. He simply placed the bag he held back into the pile. He looked at the darkened phone then to Wilbur. His green eyes held curiousness and worry.

"How long do you think we have until he figures out where we are? Comes looking for us?"

"I'm not sure, but from all the other times my father has set out to search for me it doesn't take long for him to catch up with me." Wilbur admitted.

Caleb sighed. "Maybe," he hesitated, "maybe we should just go back home, Wilbur." He suggested with defeat in his voice.

"What?!" Wilbur looked at him with shock.

"Come on, Wilbur." Caleb continued. "We aren't that much closer to finding your mom than the police are. We're just two kids. We are in way over our heads here thinking that we can find her when we don't know the first thing about what we're doing."

Wilbur crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his brows in irritation at his friend. "Wasn't it you only a little bit ago that said I shouldn't throw in the towel just yet?" Wilbur saw his head hang. "What happened to that Caleb?"

"He's suppressed now that your dad has noticed your gone. Which means my dad probably knows to." Caleb said. "If they do know what we are up to then they most likely are worrying. We should pack up and go home. We can give the police the clue we think will lead to your mom, and just let the professionals handle the rest of this."

Wilbur went to speak but the sound of his ringtone once again filled the space between them. It was once again his father. Wilbur focused his eyes on the picture he had for his father's contact. He watched his phone vibrate and ring on the glass table until it stopped. His lock screen showed he had three missed calls from his father. He lifted his eyes to Caleb who had watched the phone go off as well.

"That's three right?" Caleb asked and Wilbur gave a sharp nod.

"Look Caleb." Wilbur grabbed his phone from the table and held it in his hand. "I'm tired of sitting around and doing nothing while the police drag their tails between their legs. They aren't focused enough on finding my mom like they are on questioning my dad."

His phone dinged in his hand and Wilbur looked down at the screen to see he had a voicemail from his father. He hit the power button to switch the screen off, and returned his eyes to Caleb.

"Aren't you gonna listen to that?" Caleb questioned him.

Wilbur shook his head to the sides with his eyes closed. "I don't wanna hear my dad threatening my life right now. I'll listen to it later."

Caleb gave a shrug of his shoulders because he looked like he didn't know how else to respond. His hands rubbed together slowly back and forth between his spread legs. "What do we do from here?"

Wilbur jerked his head from Caleb's direction and toward the opened French door. The setting sun changed the sky from the bright blue to blended colors.

"Wilbur?"

His shoulders sagged while he released a breath of air he didn't realize he held. "Wilbur Robinson never fails." His eyes turned back to face Caleb. "I'm not giving up just yet, and neither are you." Caleb went to argue, but Wilbur beat him to it. "Please Caleb. If you're right about the pictures being the answer to her location, then I'm gonna find it. I'll stare at them all night if I have to. Give me until the end of tomorrow. If I don't find anything by then then I'll take us home and leave the detective work to the police."

Caleb looked at him with unsure eyes while he pressed his lips into a thin line. "Wilbur,"

"Please." Wilbur begged. "Caleb, please." He gave his friend the best puppy dog eyes he reserved for Carl when he wanted the robot to help him.

Caleb groaned and Wilbur knew he won him over. "Fine."

"Yay!" Wilbur shouted.

"But," Caleb interrupted his victory scream, "if you don't find something by the end of the day tomorrow, we go home." Caleb reached his hand across the coffee table for a hand shake. "Do you promise?"

His voice was hesitant. Like he thought Wilbur wouldn't keep his word on the deal they were just about to shake on. If there was one thing anyone should know about Wilbur it was if he promised something he kept that promise. Even if he went to measures that made it look like he would break it. Wilbur Robinson always kept a promise he made. Wilbur took a deep breath in, and clasped their hands together.

"I promise." He gave a tug downward to seal their deal. They released hands. "But, let's start again after a bit. I can't look at them anymore right now."

Both boys heard a deep growl. Caleb's cheeks turned a deep red and his hand rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Was that you?" Wilbur asked with a laugh.

Caleb turned even more red. "Stop laughing at me. I haven't eaten since dinner last night."

"Why don't we go grab something to eat." Wilbur suggested. "Then we can come back here and take another look at the pictures. We would have eaten and our eyes would be fresh."

"How do you expect us to get food? I didn't bring any money." Caleb asked.

Wilbur pushed himself from the couch and over to his bag. He dug around until he pulled the chargeball cloth bag he had put inside it. He held it out for Caleb to see. "I did." He gave him a smug smile. "Come on. I know of a great pizza place my dad took me to when we were here last."

Caleb got up from the couch he had been sitting on. His stomach gave out another growl. He gripped his shirt with his hand. "Okay, sounds good."

Wilbur and Caleb both walked out the hotel suite door and made sure it closed and locked behind them. They walked down the extended hall of other rooms until they reached the elevator. After Wilbur pushed the button, they both waited side by side until it opened. Caleb pushed the button on the inside when they entered. Wilbur's finger tapped against the side of his jeans while the elevator descended to the first floor. The loud _ding_ of the doors came just before the doors opened. They slipped from the inside just before a few people came in. Their feet padded down the carpeted staircase into the lobby and through the revolving door.

The cool air of the evening made Wilbur shutter as the goosebumps appeared over his arms. His feet continued to carry him down the sidewalk and toward the way of the little pizza place he had eaten at before. Caleb followed beside him without a word. They slipped around people that walked past them. Most of them had their attention focused on their phones. Wilbur rolled his eyes at them and he continued down the sidewalk with Caleb silent beside him.

* * *

" **H** ere you go, ma'am." Wilbur gave the waitress a smile and handed her the tip she earned.

She gave a large smile of her own before she took the money and disappeared with their empty plates. Wilbur got up from the chair, took a last big sip of his soda, and made his way from the little pizza place with Caleb behind him. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans when they started their way back to the hotel.

Again, both boys remained silent while they walked. The sound of others on their phones, the sound of a car flying above them, and the crying of children were all that filled his ears. His tired and heavy eyes looked up to the darkened sky. Because of all the bright street lamps, Wilbur couldn't see the white stars that painted the sky. Even past six in the evening the city was busy. So many flying cars made their way in different directions. He dropped his eyes back down so he could see where he was headed.

His hand pulled his phone free from the pocket he stuffed it in. He turned the screen on to see the notifications that told him he had missed three calls from his dad and the voicemail that still remained unlistened to. He lifted his eyes to see he wouldn't run into anything then dropped them back down. He pressed his thumb on the voicemail notification and slide it over to the right. He watched the screen turn brighter when it went to where all his voicemail messages were. He waited until the message began to play before he placed it to his ear. He held his breath.

" _You better hope that I'm wrong in thinking you're out searching for your mother, because if I find out you are then you better wish you are kidnapped to keep you away from me, Wilbur."_ He heard his father speak through the phone. His heart rate sped up. _"Because when I find you I will kill you, son."_ He heard his father released a frustrated sigh before he heard him continue. _"Come on, what are you thinking Wilbur? How could you do something stupid like this? This is dangerous, son. You are putting, not only, your life on the line but Caleb's too. I figure he is with you because you both have disappeared. His father came looking for him because Caleb isn't answering his phone. We don't know what to think because we aren't hearing anything."_ Wilbur felt his eyes burn from the tears he knew would build. _"Wilbur, come home please. I already lost your mother I can't lose you too. You are the one thing that has kept me from falling apart completely, come home son. We can get through this together. Your mother wouldn't want you to put yourself in a situation where you could be hurt, so please,"_ Wilbur heard the sob in his voice and that made him start to cry, _"don't do this. Trust that I can help you get through this. I know you're scared and you want to run, but don't push me away. I love you, please come back to me."_

Wilbur stopped walking down the sidewalk and placed his free hand over his chest right before the sob over took his body. He removed his phone from the ear it was placed over. His feet stumbled to keep him upright, so he fell to his knees in the middle of the walkway. The phone slipped through his fingers and hit the cement.

"Wilbur?!"

He felt like he couldn't breathe. His body was taking in air, but his lungs felt like they were getting nothing. His eyes leaked tears that poured down his cheeks and dropped onto the thighs of his jeans. His body shook from the uncontrolled sob that shot through his frame. He knew Caleb was beside him. He could feel his hands on his shoulders, but it felt like he was alone in the middle of that sidewalk.

The message his father left him was not what he expected. Wilbur had expected shouting, anger, rage at what he was doing, but it only started out like he knew though the rest was what hit him hard. His father didn't stay angry at him. Wilbur's dad had turned to a voice filled with worry and hurt. By leaving to take things into his own hands, he had caused his father pain. Left him to suffer at the thought of him leaving him.

' _But,'_ Wilbur thought through his tears, _'that is exactly what I did. I left my dad alone. I promised I wouldn't let anyone take me away from him, but I took myself away from him. I broke my promise to him.'_

"Wilbur!"

Wilbur lifted his blurred eyes to the boy the voice came from. He used his hands to wipe the tears from his cheeks and out of his eyes. He saw Caleb was looking at him with concern.

"What is it?" He wondered. "Are you hurt?"

Wilbur took a deep breath to calm the fit he was in. "In a way yes, I'm hurt."

Caleb looked him over. "What happened?"

Wilbur grabbed onto Caleb's shoulder and used that to help him stand. Caleb stood up with him. "I, uh, I just listened to the voicemail, is all. I'm fine."

Caleb looked at him like he was crazy. "You just had a hysteria fight in the middle of the sidewalk. I think that is far from fine, Wilbur."

Wilbur shook his head and bent over to pick his phone up. He immediately stuffed it in his pocket. "We should get back to the hotel before it gets to dark."

Caleb grabbed his arm and stopped him. "Hold on." He moved himself so he stood in his way. "What did that message say?"

"Nothing, I didn't expect." Wilbur said. "Just listening to it, I realized that I broke my promise to him."

"What promise was that?" His brow lifted up in question.

"I promised my dad that I wouldn't let anyone take me away from him like mom."

Caleb moved his eyes around them in confusion while he tried to find a response to his words. "But, no one,"

"Yeah someone did take me away from him." Wilbur interrupted. "I took myself away from him, and in doing so I caused my father pain. I hurt him, Caleb, and that was the cause of my fit. Now can we drop this conversation and go back to the hotel?"

Wilbur didn't wait for Caleb to answer him before he went around his body and headed back in the direction of the hotel. The whole way, Caleb didn't say anything else, and Wilbur was thankful for the quiet. It gave him time to calm down before he exploded on him. Caleb didn't deserve his anger.

' _Who did deserve my anger?'_

Wilbur squinted his eyes. He was angry, but who was he angry at? His body was constantly fighting against itself. He was angry at his father. His brain tried to make him believe everything that has happened to his family all his dad's fault. He is the cause for all the pain he felt. All the hurt. But his heart knew it wasn't his father's fault his mother was taken. The man, Everett Hudson, was the cause of all the pain his family suffered from.

' _So, what am I so angry at?'_ Wilbur asked himself while he turned down the sidewalk that lead to the hotel. He could see the lights that lit it up, and the glass dome bright that lit the flags that danced in the breeze. Wilbur curled his fingers into his palm and walked faster to the revolving door. He pushed himself through the door and into the lobby. He didn't see the woman who had been there earlier, so he just walked up the steps to the elevator. He pushed the button and the doors opened the second he released it. The elevator took both boys up to the fifth floor.

' _I'm angry at myself. The person who deserves my anger is me.'_

He pushed himself out of the elevator and down the hall to the door to the suite his mother stayed in. His thumb punched in the code, and made his way back into the room. Caleb followed behind and shut the door. Wilbur had briefly forgotten that Caleb was with him. Wilbur made his way into the sitting area of the suite. He turned to face Caleb who walked around the table in the hall.

"It's kinda early, but I think I'm gonna head to bed." Caleb informed. "I mean I was woken up at four this morning by a crazy person."

Wilbur gave a chuckle.

"Do you want the bed?" Caleb asked.

"No." He shook his head. "I'm gonna stay up for a while longer. See if I can find anything. If I get tired, I'll just sleep on the couch."

Caleb gave a nod. "Alright, then I'm going to bed." Wilbur watched as Caleb made his way to the bedroom. "If you did find out anything wake me up."

Wilbur was left alone after Caleb closed the doors to the bedroom. He turned and made his way to the couch and plopped down on the cushion. His legs spread with his feet flat on the floor. His shoulders and back hunched over. His elbows on his thighs with his hands hung between his legs. His exhausted brown eyes looked to the pictures spread out on the glass. He could see each one that was sent to his father.

The one with her tied to the chair asleep. Another with her frightened eyes while she stood naked in the shower. Again at a kitchen table. The last was of his mother asleep on the couch; her wrists tied by her head.

With a deep breath to give him strength, Wilbur rubbed his face with his hands to wake himself, and reach for the first picture his fingers touched.

' _I'll find the answer to where you are mom, even if I have to stay up all night.'_

His fingers lifted put the picture he touched first. It was the one of her tied to the chair. Her face freed of any marks.

 _'Must have been taken before he touched her.'_

Wilbur opened the bag the picture was in and removed it from inside the plastic. He tossed the empty bag back onto the coffee table and held the photo before his eyes. He looked at the dress she wore. It looked damp and wrinkled. Spots of dirt dirtied the white fabric.

 _'So she has to be somewhere around dirt, or he was careless about carrying her.'_ Wilbur thought.

He got up from the couch to get to his bag again. He pulled out the notebook with a pen then made his way back to the couch. He opened it up to a blank page and wrote his first thought. He went back to looking at the photo after he was done. Her hair was frizzed and wild down her back. The lighting in the picture was not great, so Wilbur couldn't see much but he did take note of the old looking chair she was tied to. He also wrote down the fact the rope was old. He squinted his eyes while he looked at everything else he could see in the photo. He could make out bricks and cracked concrete. He wrote it down in is notes. Wilbur moved onto a different photo. He removed it from the bag and sent his eyes to look it over for anything valuable to take note of.

He spent the better part of the night looking over the photos carefully and scribbling down anything he thought useful. He wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep, but Wilbur's eyes locked closed and remained so while he curled up on the couch with the pen behind his ear and a photo pressed to his chest.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed this chapter.  
Let me know your thoughts in a review at the end and I shall see you in the next chapter my loves.**


	51. Chapter Thirty-Five

_Nav: Using the pizza place again was actually a split second decision. Haha! I plan most of what happens in the chapters, but I can't help where my fingers take me, so that was a last minute thing to have the boys eat there. And here is the next chapter! Hope you enjoy it!_

 _GhostofSven: Welcome to my story! I'm glad to here each chapter gets you closer to the edge of your seat from anticipation for the family to be reunited. I am quite excited as well. Hope you like this chapter my friend._

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Chapter Thirty-Five  
Cornelius

 _Todayland: Wednesday, September 2nd, 2037_

 **H** is palms rubbed back and forth, slowly, before his face. His elbows dug into his thighs with his back hunched forward. He watched the man before him, who had a notepad and a pen held with both hands, from one of the couches between the staircases.

"So," Chief Barry started after his pen stopped moving on the notepad, "let me see if I understand this. My brain is over-worked and exhausted, so as you can imagine my mind takes a bit longer to process what it's heard." He took in a deep breath. "Your son," he pointed at Cornelius with his pen, "and your son," he pointed to Alexander who sat next to him, "have both taken off?"

Cornelius continued to rub his hands together, his eyes fell to look at the reflections in the marble floor, and he gave a sharp nod of his head in response.

"Yes, that is correct." Alexander said.

"And you two have no idea why they left?" Chief Barry wondered.

Cornelius rolled his eyes at the questioned asked before he looked back in his direction. "I already told you why they left. Did you not write that down?" His voice hinted with irritation.

If Chief Barry got offended by what Cornelius said, he didn't let it show on the outside but he did give Cornelius a hardened glare in his direction. The edge in his tone of voice gave Cornelius the satisfaction that he had succeeded in offending him. Cornelius tried not to smile at the small victory he was granted with.

"I may not have gotten every word for word you and Mr. Noels have spoken to me during your statements Mr. Robinson, but I do have a good memory." He grumbled to him.

' _Yep.'_ Cornelius smiled inside his head. _'Defiantly a point for me.'_

"You and Mr. Noels have come to the conclusion that both your _teenage_ sons have taken off to go in search for Francesca Robinson." Chief Barry summarize the words Cornelius had given to him. "Let me ask you this," he shook his head, "why do you believe this is the reason your sons have disappeared? How do you know they haven't just runaway to get away from all the drama?"

Cornelius dropped his hands from before his eyes and placed them flat on his thighs. His back straightened up and his body seemed to sink further into the couch. "I would have considered that a possibility, but there are many factors that don't make since for it to be possible. Let me repeat those factors, so we are all on the same page." Chief Barry lowered his brows dangerously. "If Wilbur had run away from all that is going on around him, why would he take Caleb with him? He had no need to bring him along if he wants to be alone."

"May-" Cornelius held out a hand to stop him from speaking.

"I noted when I entered my son's room that all of his school supplies were scattered in a messy pile on his floor and his bag missing. Then I am informed that my wife's car is gone from the garage. Not long after that I learn all of the items sent to me were missing from that coffee table." Cornelius pointed to the white table. "I put the pieces together not long after finding all that out."

' _He also took my recent favorite picture of Franny and her camera.'_

Chief Barry moved his eyes over to Alexander. "And it wasn't until Mr. Noels here came over that you noticed your son was gone? I fail to see how you didn't suspect anything until then, Mr. Robinson."

Cornelius narrowed his eyes at the chief who went back to looking at him. "You arrested me in front of my son in the early hours of the morning. Wilbur is barely holding himself together as it is, then he sees you bringing me in as a suspect. He locked himself in his room all that day, so I thought he was still in there when I finally got home. Wilbur is a smart boy he knows how to sneak around without being noticed until much later."

Chief Barry turned his attention to Alexander. "Mr. Noels can you tell me why it took you so long to notice your son had disappeared? In your line of work, you should have picked up on something much sooner."

Cornelius glanced over at Alexander to see his brows lowered and his face annoyed with the large chief.

"I'm a security guard at Robinson Industries. I work all night long, and I don't get home until after Caleb's left for school. I didn't think anything was wrong when he didn't come home at his regular time because he had let me know he wanted to bring over Wilbur's homework assignments and help him with the lessons so he wouldn't fall to far behind. I figured he must have lost track of time with Wilbur, so I came over here to get him. When neither Cornelius or myself could find the boys and we were informed of all the missing things, that's when he figured it out."

Chief Barry closed his pen and put it back in the front pocket of his shirt. He flipped over the pages that were turned to close the notepad and slipped it into his pants pocket. "What would you two like me to do?" His facial expression looked tired and lazy. His arms crossed over his chest. "All of our detectives are very busy with solving the case of your wife."

Cornelius pushed himself from the couch and slipped his hands into the pockets of his gray, form fitting dress pants. He took in a deep breath and let it out as he spoke. "Can you just get the word out for people to look for them?"

Chief Barry gave a sharp nod of his head and headed for the front door. Cornelius followed behind and closed it after the chief made his way down the porch steps. After the door echoed from it closing, Cornelius hung his head and leaned on the hand he had used to push it closed. After a moment, he used his arm to push himself away from the door and headed back toward the family room where Alexander still sat.

When Cornelius approached him Alexander's head turned in his direction. His facial expression read calm, but Cornelius could see that he was filled with worry by the look in his eyes. Alexander got himself up from the couch as Cornelius made his way closer and stopped just before he reached the couch.

"Well," Alexander rubbed his palms together from the awkward that passed around them, "he was…friendly."

Cornelius raised his brows. "Yeah, he's not the warmest person I've met, but I think trying to find someone with no clues can make anyone irritable." He gave his shoulders a shrug and slipped his hands back into the pockets of his pants. He relaxed his shoulders and the simple V-neck, black t-shirt that he wore tucked into his pants wrinkled a little around his torso.

"It does sound tough." Alexander's voice was no louder than a mumble. "What happens now? What do we do from here?"

Cornelius scuffed the bottom of his brown dress shoes on the marble floor. "We wait." He adjusted his glasses on his nose. "We wait for either the police to find the boys or we wait for them to contact us."

Alexander crossed his arms tightly over his chest and looked at the floor with a sigh. "So we just sit here doing nothing, twiddle our thumbs, with only our thoughts?" He asked. "Why don't we just go out and search for them ourselves? It could take them days to find them."

"Alexander, the boys could be anywhere. It would take us days just to figure out where they would go to search for Franny." Cornelius tried to reason. "It's best to just let the police put their pictures out there and for us to wait."

Alexander looked away from Cornelius and gripped the sleeves of his shirt. "But,"

Cornelius held up a hand to stop him before he could finish his sentence. "Look Alexander, I understand how you must feel. Believe me I do, but we don't need to just head out and search for them. We haven't the first idea where they could have gone. With the car Wilbur took they could go just about anywhere. We don't know the first place to look for them." Cornelius explained the best he knew how to help ease Alexander's mind. "We would be better off just leaving it to the police. I'm sure when they get their pictures out people will call in and they will be back with us in no time." He gave a smile to help his case.

"I don't feel right just sitting here."

"I know." Cornelius agreed. "I haven't felt right about sitting around since my wife was taken from me, but really what can we do to help?"

Alexander didn't answer his question, but only moved himself to sit back on the couch. His palms rubbed down his face in a way to remove the stress. His fingers dug into his eyes to rub the sleep from them. Cornelius removed his other hand from the depth of his pocket and let them hang by his sides. Lucille, his mother, came into the family room with a white square plate held in both her wrinkled hands. She stood before Alexander, her back bent over, and she held the plate before him.

"Would you like a muffin?" She asked in a soft voice that cracked.

Alexander looked up at her with surprise. Like he didn't notice she had come up to him. He gave her a small smile and reached for one of the blueberry muffins she had baked.

"Thank you."

Lucille turned her attention to Cornelius and she made her way over to him with the plate before her.

"Mom," Cornelius began.

"Muffin?" She asked him.

Cornelius placed both his hands over her flour covered ones and looked at her with eyes filled with concern. "You need to stop baking mom. You've over taken the kitchen with sweets." He whispered to her. "This isn't good for you to just bake all your worries away."

Lucille looked at him with sadness. "It's better than falling apart isn't it?" Cornelius opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it by lifting the plate to his face. The sweet smell invaded his nose. "Muffin?"

Cornelius just gave her a smile. "No thank you, mom."

She forced a smile and touched his cheek with one of her hands before she left for the kitchen again.

"Does your mother usually bake this much?" Alexander's voice spoke up. Cornelius looked at him just as he put the last bite of the muffin into his mouth.

Cornelius stole a glance at his mother, who had started to make something else, before he returned his blue eyes to Alexander. "No, only when she is stressed does she bake until she runs out of supplies."

"Well," Alexander gave a sigh, "even if that was a stressed baked muffin it was delicious." He gave a laugh to himself.

Cornelius brushed his fingers through his hair. "You are more than welcome to wait here until the boys are found, but I think I'm going to head into work for a few hours."

Alexander shot up from the couch and looked at him like he was crazy. "Cornelius nobody expects you to go in for a while."

Cornelius shoved his fingers back into his pockets except his thumbs. "I know that, but I have nothing left here to keep my mind from thinking. To keep myself from breaking down completely. Wilbur was the one person I forced myself to stay strong for, to make it seem like I was keeping myself together, but now that he too has been taken from me I have to, I _need_ to find something to keep me from crumbling." Cornelius turned his body toward the door and headed in that direction. "Maybe absorbing myself into our latest project will keep my mind occupied for the time being."

"Cornelius." Alexander called after him, but he didn't hear him come after him.

His hands removed themselves from the warmth of his pockets and reached for his coat on the hook in the entry hall. The light blue scarf looped under the collar of the tan jacket that his wife had put there. Cornelius slipped both his arms through and grabbed the ends of the scarf.

' _She's always been there to take care of me. Making sure I had all the things I needed.'_

Cornelius grabbed the bag he used for all his work papers and folders and slipped over his shoulder. He hovered his hand over the keys he needed for his car, but then walked away; leaving them there on the entry table. He yanked the door open and the cool air, colder than it had been since the fall months rolled in, wrapped around his body. He pulled the door closed on his way through the threshold and down the steps. Cornelius took in a deep breath of the cold air and it seemed to relax him just a bit.

He headed across the dirt path and across the plain between his home and the start of the sidewalk at the edge of the neighborhood a little across the plain. His feet step up onto the sidewalk and carried him past the neighborhood Wilbur had walk or raced past on his way to school several times. He lifted his eyes up to the cloudless morning sky and enjoyed the little warmth the sun offered on the cold day. With a breeze swept over him, Cornelius headed toward the city and the R shaped building that was his work.

 **H** is fingers carefully reached for the blue wire to move it over to the right location it needed to be. He lifted his head from the half-finished board on the table before him to look over at the blueprints laid out. His eyes scanned the white writing through both his glasses and goggles then moved back to the project before him. He carefully moved the wire over to where it needed to be, but his hip bumped against the table and it jerked his hand. The open end of the blue wire hit against another loose wire and a spark flashed before a jolted pain shot through his fingers and up his arm.

"Damn it!" Cornelius cried out.

He released the wire and shook his hand fast in the air to stop the pain in his fingers. When it lowered down, he looked over his fingers to see if he had any burn marks but he was good. He removed the goggles from his face with frustration and anger. He tossed them on the table with more force than he meant to, but Cornelius didn't care. He wrapped his fingers around the tables edge and leaned his weight full on his arms.

"Sir, maybe you should take a break." The only other person in the room spoke up for the first time since Cornelius came in and requested an intern to help him. "You've been at this for hours."

"It needs to get done. The board has been all over me to get it finished and ready to show." Cornelius mutter loud enough for the young boy to heard across the table.

"Mr. Robinson," the boy sounded hesitant, "I know there has been a lot going on in your personal life, and I know I shouldn't speak out of turn, but I think with everything going on with your wife your mind is clouded and you can't concentrate at what you're doing."

Cornelius lifted his eyes to look at the young intern. He knew the boy had a good point. His mind was clouded with thoughts of his wife and his son. His complete focus couldn't be given to the project before him and he knew that was dangerous to do. He pushed himself from the table and headed for the lab doors.

"I, um, I have a whole lot of paper work to get filled out and sorted in my office." Cornelius lied. "Can you finish up connecting the last few wires and put everything back where it needs to go? I'll be in my office if you should need me."

He didn't wait for the young Mr. Gilbert to respond to him, he walked through the lab doors and turned down the hall to the elevator. Several other people in white lab coats passed by him in the hall. Serval had their brows raised in surprise to see their boss or bosses boss in the building. He figured most of them suspected him to still be at home until his wife was found, but that was not the case. Some gave him a warm smile while they passed to offer their sympathy, but Cornelius didn't want others sympathy he wanted things to go back the way they were.

He leaned against the glass wall that surrounded everyone else in the elevator with his arms crossed over his chest; his head hung low. He heard the mumbles of quiet conversations. A heated, whispered argument about a formula that needed to be fixed. A young girl, an intern, that stood just before him was giving a flirtatious smile and batting her eyelashes at an inventor much older than herself. Cornelius tried not to groan out loud at the scene before him. Although people think just because he's the boss and locked away with piles of work he doesn't hear all that goes on in his building, Cornelius does hear everything. He hears about how second or fifth year inventors would sneak off with first year interns into an unoccupied room and entertain themselves. Looking at the intern continue to bat her eyelashes and brush her fingers over his own, he knew what they could end up doing later in an empty room.

Cornelius leaned his body to the right to get a look at who the inventor was that the young intern was taken with. From the black glasses, the brown hair with a continuous lock that brushed over his forehead, and the peak of a tattoo on his wrist, Cornelius knew who the inventor was. He gave a smirk with a release of air from his nose. He put his body back against the wall.

"Mr. Young."

Cornelius saw the third-year inventor tense his shoulders up before he lowered them and turned to face Cornelius. "Yes, Sir?" If he was nervous, he didn't hear it in his voice.

"How are those portable x-ray machines of yours coming along?" Cornelius asked.

Mr. Young moved his eyes to look around the elevator. Everyone else had stopped doing what they had been to look at them. "They are coming along nicely. We've run into a few problems with the equations and the wires, but we are working around the clock to get them figured out."

Cornelius raised his brow. "Oh, really?"

"Yes sir, I was just headed back to the lab to help fix the problem we missed."

Cornelius removed his back from the glass wall and uncrossed his arms to shove his hands inside the pockets of his lab coat. "Hmm, you know I remember asking you that same question last week, and you gave me that same answer."

Mr. Young's face paled to match a white sheet. "Well, I, um, we have, um,"

Cornelius held up a palm to make the stuttering man stop talking. He slipped his hand back into his pocket and turned his attention to the young intern that was staring wide eyed at him.

"I am going to be in my office most likely for the rest of the day, I want an hourly update and chats brought to me to show your progress. If it is not brought to me to see, then I will replace you on this project." Cornelius made his voice hard.

The sound of the elevator opening echoed in the small space. Everyone around looked at Cornelius with shock and surprise at his tone. The young intern tightened her grip on the folders she held and if possible made her eyes go wider. The inventor swallowed a lump in his throat and flexed his fingers.

"Of course, Mr. Robinson."

Cornelius removed his hands from the depths of his pockets and pushed his way out of the crowded elevator after he gave a sharp nod to Mr. Young. His feet carried his body down the hall and stopped before his office door. He swung the door open and closed it with a flick of his wrist after he walked through. His feet moved him across the floor to his desk that hadn't been touched since his wife went missing.

He wasn't surprised to see all the file folders stacked in the middle of his desk. New ideas he needed to go through to see if they were worth creating or not. What would sell and what was a waste of time to bother considering. His body fell back in the black leather chair with a heavy sigh. His eyes locked on the large stack. He pulled the chair up to his desk and reached for the folder on the top of the stack.

' _If I can't focus enough to work on an actual project then I will see what we will start with next.'_

With that thought forced to over-take everything else on his mind, Cornelius forced himself to focus on his task and nothing else. He opened the folder and laid it out on his desk before him. He got to work by scanning his eyes over the printed words and the prototype blueprints provided.

He hadn't realized than an hour had passed by until the knock at his office door and the intern entered. Cornelius pushed himself from his desk to make his way over to her. With shaky hands, she held the chart out for his eye to look over.

He lowered his brows as his fingers flip the papers up from the chart he held. The further he read into the equations and sentences his brows lowered more until he looked like he was squinting. No longer able to read the material, Cornelius dropped the papers and the clipboard from his sight. He looked at the intern he had scolded earlier.

"I don't see how this is possible."

The intern looked like she was trying to make herself small before him. Her eyes down casted to the floor. "What confuses you, Sir?"

Cornelius held the clipboard out to point at her with it. "This is the same chart I was given last week to check over the progress." The girl moved her hair to hid behind her ponytail. "You're telling me that you haven't made any progress in those machines since I've been away?" Cornelius could feel his tone getting sharp with irritation from the lack of focus in his building. Cornelius shoved the clipboard into the intern's hands. "You tell Mr. Young that if he hasn't made at least an inch of progress by the end of the day then he can kiss this project goodbye and I will keep him down in the storage room to count our inventory that comes in for the next two months."

She ran out of his office with purpose. His door closed behind her.

Cornelius released the breath he had held inside his lungs. He removed his glasses from his eyes to rub them with hard force. He walked back over to his desk with his glasses back on his nose. He closed the folder that was opened on his desk and put it in the reject pile he had on the floor. The pile that held all the folders he had read through except for one. He picked up the next one and began his read.

It didn't hold his attention. His eyes kept blurring over from the boredom of reading those files. He had to rub his eyes several times to keep his vison clear long enough to finish the file before him. Halfway through the material, Cornelius tossed it in the reject file.

His head fell into his hands. He released a rather loud groan before he forced himself up from the chair and out of his office. He made his way down the hall to the lounge where he could grab the largest cup of coffee he could find. Of course, when he arrived in the lounge the coffee pot was empty. He had to make a new batch, but he didn't mind all that much. The fresher the brew the better for him. While the pot brewed, Cornelius searched the cabinets for the largest cup. He found a rather large, plain white mug that he had to rinse in the sink.

He poured the cup as full as he could before he risked spilling it on his way back to his office. He lifted the mug to his lips and took a long drink before he refilled the amount he took. He placed the pot back into its spot on the coffee maker and removed himself from the lounge. He hardly saw any of his inventors on his way back to his office, but he figured they were all busy with something.

He sat himself back into his chair and pulled the next file out. The mug full of coffee within reach, Cornelius spent the rest of the work day going through each file. The only thing to stop him was the occasional visit to update him on the project that needed to be finished. The same as his project, but Mr. Young's was supposed to be done by then. Each chart given to him was the same as the one before, he grew rather annoyed that no progress had been made.

It wasn't until the last chart finally showed the progress he needed to see. With a calmer voice, he dismissed the young intern and wished her a good night. She finally had given him a smile and wished the same to him before she disappeared from his office. Cornelius realized that he had already finished all the folders on his desk and had nothing else to keep him occupied.

He stood there and debated with himself if he should just stay at work or head home and fall apart. The choice was easy, he sunk into the couch provided in his office. He grabbed a throw pillow and held it to his chest with his eyes closed. As he laid there on that couch he never realized until then how quiet his office really was.

* * *

 _Thursday, September 3rd, 2037_

The day seemed to pass him in a blur. He felt like he didn't get anything done because the time slipped by like the creaks along a frozen lake. By the time he finally walked down the hall to his office the sun was nearly set beyond the horizon line.

Cornelius was grateful that he was absorbed in his work that he didn't get one chance to think of Franny or Wilbur, but down that hall all his thoughts hit him at once.

How much he missed his family.

How he longed to wrap his arms around Franny. Crush her small body into his larger one.

How he longed to breath in the sweet smell of her soft hair and brand that smell to his brain.

How he longed to kiss her again and tell her how much he loved her.

How he longed to see Wilbur's goofy smile.

How he longed to ruff up his hair and see him try to be angry that he messed up his cowlick.

He smiled at all the things he longed to do again.

"Mr. Robinson!" A woman headed in his direction waved her arm out to catch his attention.

Cornelius lifted his palm up to offer a wave. "Good evening, Hannah." Cornelius stopped just before his office door. "Headed home?"

She gave a nod of her head and the wavy blonde hair fell over her shoulder. "Just finished up the last of the messages that needed to be delivered." She explained.

"Good." Cornelius gave her a forced smile. "Have a wonderful night." He began to head inside his office when she grabbed his shoulder to stop him. He looked at her with confusion at the contact.

"Before I go, you have a call on line two. He says it's important." She gave his shoulder a slight squeeze before her heeled feet carried her down the hall.

Cornelius shook his head then closed his office door. He rushed his feet across the carpet to get to the phone at his desk. He lifted the headset from the dock and pressed the button to let the call off hold. He pressed the headset to his ear and let a breath out.

"Hello, you've got Cornelius Robinson."

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 **Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed. It took some pushing to get through it, but it's finished and done. I just wanted to let you all know that I am packing to move. I will be moving into my new place next weekend, so I'm not sure when the next chapter will be posted. Between work and packing I'm hoping to find some time to write. I will do my best to get the next chapter or two up before the weekend and all my time it taken to unpack all my stuff.  
**

 **Review your wonderful thoughts and I shall see you all next chapter!  
**


	52. Chapter Thirty-Six

_Guest Reviewer: Glad you like the insight of Cornelius at work. I had fun writing it and seeing the different ways I can make him act. The first draft just didn't do it for me, so I went with the second. Haha. Enjoy this chapter my friend._

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Chapter Thirty-Six  
Franny

 _Unknown: Thursday, September 3rd, 2037_

 **T** he water that escaped the faucet was scolding hot on her hands when she went to rinse the soapy dishes. After the plate was clear of any soap or food, Franny leaned over to place it in the wooden drying rack to her left. She reached for the next dish and began to scrub at it with the sponge Everett provided for her. She washed the outside of the glass first then the inside. She dumped the gathered water from the glass then scrubbed the bottom again with more force than she needed. She dropped the sponge into the sink and held the glass under the scolding water that steamed.

Behind her the family room TV, which Everett moved from the living room, was turned on to the news channel. Everett had left Franny to do the dishes while he watched TV to pass the time until she finished. As they had repeated for the past couple nights. Franny turned her head to steal a glance into the room to see if Everett had returned to it, but she saw he was still gone. He had told her, through his slightly drunk state, that he needed to go do something and disappeared down the hall to the master bedroom. She wondered what he could possibly be doing and thought if she should check to see if he had passed out drunk in the bathroom. A part of her wished he had so she could make a run for it, but her hope was shattered when his body came back into the room. She twisted her body back to the sink and worked to finish the dishes.

As each dish got cleaned and rinsed the news behind her continued to talk about all the boring political stuff she never cared to understand. She tried to tune out the TV and focus on her task. As she began to wash the other plate, Franny wondered why Everett even bothered to watch the news. She could clearly see he was bored with it as well, and grew confused as to why he tried to seem interested in it. Ever since he had shared the news of her husband's arrest the news channel was all he watched. Franny scoffed at her foolishness while she placed the dish on the rack. He watched the news so he could see if anything new would come up regarding her or her family. Something new he could use to break her down further than she already was.

With a roll of her eyes, Franny rinsed off the last dish and turned the scolding water off before she placed it to dry. She grabbed the hand towel on the counter and dried her hands. With no want to go and sit in the same room as Everett, Franny grabbed a plate and began to hand dry it with the towel. She put it back in the dusty cabinet before she moved on to the next dish.

" _Still with no word as to the where a bout of Francesca Robinson, the family seems to be faced with more trouble than they can handle. Police seemed to believe Cornelius Robinson, as many people know as the founder of the future and husband of Francesca, had something to do with her disappearance."_

Franny spun on the bare heel of her feet to face the TV. The towel clenched in one hand and the glass cup held in her other. Her eyes look fearful at the screen. _'What could have happened now?'_

" _Of course, he was released from the station free of charges, but it seems the Robinson troubles don't stop there. Gaston and Art Framagucci have both been arrest for loitering and assault yesterday afternoon on a man they believed to be Everett Hudson, the man suspected to be the kidnapper of their younger sister."_

Franny released a gasp from her lips and tightened her grip on the hand towel by her hip. Her eyes glued to the screen and the woman who spoke. _'Oh Gaston, Art why would you do something like that? What caused you to act in such a way?'_

" _We aren't sure if they will be released any time soon, but we did get a comment stating they want to keep them locked away until the case of their sister is solved. It seems this families trouble doesn't quite end there."_

' _What else could there be?!'_ She questioned loudly inside her head.

" _Police still request that everyone continue to look out for teenage boys Caleb Noels and Wilbur Robinson."_

Franny tensed every muscle in her body. She stopped breathing the moment the picture of her son popped up onto the screen. The wet glass she held in her hand slipped through her fingers and fell until she heard it shatter on the tile floor around her feet. Everett heard the breaking of the glass for he turned his attention to her and raised a brow before he must have seen the horrid look on her face. She saw him stand from the corner of her eye and look at the screen when the lady began to talk again.

" _It is unclear what time of day they took off yesterday or where they could be. Both fathers believe they are traveling in Francesca's car and are searching for her themselves. Keep an eye out for-"_

Franny's eyes wielded up with tears at hearing what the lady was saying. She moved her feet around the island counter to stand just before the carpet of the family room. Sharp pains came from the bottom of her feet, but Franny ignored it and gripped the counter with the hand that still held the towel.

' _No.'_ Franny's inner voice was panicked. _'Why is she lying? Wilbur isn't missing, no, he is at home where he is safe with his father.'_ Franny bite her bottom lip. _'Right?'_

" _Police ask that if you should see that car or the teenage boys to please call and let them know."_ The woman continued with her story update.

' _No!'_

Her eyes remove from the TV when the news moved to a commercial to lock on Everett. He had his eyes locked on her as well with a smug smile. He obviously was rather pleased with the way the update affected her.

"What did you do?" She asked him with anger clear in her tone.

He raised a brow. "Excuse me?"

She pushed herself to move further in the room he stood. Her ached feet carried her across the carpet until she rounded to stand in front of him. The cloth ottoman between them. "What did you do?" Her fingers curled around the hand towel. "What did you do? What did you do?!" Her body flew across the remaining space between them and her fingers clawed at the shirt he wore. He raised both brows in surprise at her attack. "What have you done with my son?! Wilbur is a child. An innocent child! How could you take my baby?!" Franny screamed her furry in his face. The over whelming, motherly need to protect her child came through her actions. If Everett had laid a hand on her little man, then he would regret it. "Where have you taken my son and his friend?! They are children Everett! They have nothing to do with what is going on with you and my husband!" Franny removed her hands from his shirt and sent one of her palms toward his face. She heard the smack and she saw his face turn to his left a little from the blow, but she was numb to the pain that was probably in her hand. "What have you done with my baby you unimaginable bastard?!"

Everett snatched her wrist, the one that belonged to the hand she used to strike him, tightly in his larger fingers. His red eyes locked to her own hard ones, and he growled at her. He brought his face close to hers until their noses were centimeters apart. She could smell the alcohol that seeped through his nose and burned hers when she took a breath. Franny grew afraid at what he would do next, but she didn't let it show on her face. She didn't back down from the fighting instincts of a mother who wanted nothing more than to protect her child from danger.

"For the record, I haven't touched your son. He probably has run off with that friend of his, but I don't really care if he has. My focus is Cornelius." He brought his free hand up to touch her cheek. His fingers ran down her skin and over her bottom lip. "I would watch the language that comes from that pretty little mouth of yours." Everett's voice was calm but spoke in a low tone that made the hairs on her arms stand to attention. "I would much rather hear moans of my name or screams of sweet pleasure come from those pink lips of yours than the foul language I just heard."

She crunched her brows down to give him a glare. "You'll never heard anything other than foul language from me. The only name I will speak from pleasure is my husband. No one else." Her voice was shaky, but strong.

He gave her a chuckle before his face moved to her ear. She felt his lips brush against the skin of her lobe. "Care to test that theory, my dear?" He challenged. She felt her heart begin to thump harder behind her ribs. Her eyes widen from the shock.

His teeth nibbled against her ear. Before long, she felt his teeth and lips move down the side of her neck. His teeth nicking at her skin and his lips brushing along the curve of her neck until the collar of her dress prevented him from going further. The sensation brought chills along her skin. Ice, cold chills that made her sick to her stomach, and caused her body to shutter. Everett must have thought the shutter was from pleasure for he removed his hand from her lips to slid it along her toned stomach, around her hip, and to the small of her back to bring her closer to him. Her free hand quickly pressed against his chest. Her lower back bent from the force he used to press her against him. Her hand kept her chest from touching his own. His mouth moved to the beginning of her jaw and traveled, slowly, across the structure of her jawline. Her stomach churned with nausea from his actions and she had enough.

Franny clamped her teeth together and found strength to shove him away and create space between their bodies that were too close for comfort. His body stumbled back slightly to give a few inches of empty space. The grip on the wrist he still held remained the same. The alcohol that traveled through his system made it easy for her to have greater strength than himself…at that moment.

"I'd rather not test that theory if you don't mind, because it would be a waste of your time. It would only wound your ego." Franny spoke while she wiped the wet trail he left on her skin. "And I would appreciate if you could stop touching me like that."

Everett only smiled at her. He pulled her body back to his by the wrist he held. She flinched at the pressure used against the bruises. His other went back to the small of her back, and he lifted her feet from the soft carpet. He lowered her back down so her feet rested on top of his shoes then he began to move them around in a circle with slow steps. Everett was making her body move in a dance. Franny began to try and force her body back from his, but his hand around her back moved up to her ribs and he applied pressure. Franny bit her lip to keep from screaming, but the pressure only grew and she yelped and fell to her knees. His hand was still wrapped securely around her wrist.

"I will touch you anyway I wish, Franny. You hold no power to order me around." Everett stood over her body while she gripped her ribs to make the ache go away. She knew he was right. She held no power, she held no ground to fight against him the way she wished she could. Her body was to battered. "Are you bleeding?"

Her eyes opened at the question asked of her. Brown eyes looked up at the gray that looked over the carpet floor. She followed his line of sight to see bright red spots of blood dotted the carpet in spots she had stood on. She lowered her brows and looked herself over. She didn't see any cuts on herself.

"Your feet." Everett spoke. "You stepped on the glass you broke in the kitchen, didn't you?"

He gave an annoyed sigh. He released her wrist from his fingers only to reach down and scoop her body up from the carpet. One arm under her knees and the other around her upper back. Her elbow forced its way into her ached ribs and made her uncomfortable while he carried her down the hall to the master bedroom. She started to wiggle in his grasp, but his fingers curled around the skin closest to his hands.

"Stop moving." He growled.

She froze in his arms.

He used his foot to kick the door open wide enough so they could enter. He walked across the empty space toward the large bed to place her down. Her legs dangled over the edge and her fingers played with her skirts in her lap. Everett went into the bathroom and reached inside the cabinet beneath the sink. He dug around for something until he started to place items on the garnet countertop. She couldn't see what he had pulled out from the distance she was from the bathroom, so she waited nervously. All to soon he had made his way back to her and knelt on the carpet floor before her.

"Let's see the damage, shall we?" Everett gave her a side smile.

His hand reached out for one of her feet, and Franny jerked her leg away. Everett gave her an annoyed glare before he snatched her leg with one of his hands to bring it back to him. He stared at her for a moment before he used his other hand to grab her heel. He lifted her leg up enough to get a good look at the underside of her foot. She didn't remove her eyes from him. She watched his every move. He continued to look over the bottom of her foot carefully then released it. He grabbed the other leg and did the same thing. The hand that held the back of her leg began to slowly rub the pale skin in short strokes down then back up.

"Well you managed to only get a few shards of glass in this foot. The other is clear." He spoke while he went to grab something from the floor. He brought a pair of tweezers close to the bottom of her foot and she tensed. He halted and glanced up at her. "Relax."

She didn't. He moved his hand to her foot and began to pull the shards of glass from her foot. He placed the three pieces on the wash towel he had brought from the bathroom and for the first time Franny felt the sting of pain from the cuts.

"None of the cuts are deep, so they should heal quickly." Everett informed her and looked up to her.

Franny lowered her brows at him. "Not like the other wounds I have received." She challenged him.

If Everett had been affected by her words he did a good job at keeping his reaction secret. He looked away from her and reached for the damp cloth, smaller than the one with glass on it, and brought it close to her foot. "I'm going to wipe the blood from your feet and since it's the bottom of your foot, and Band-Aids won't stay on, I'm going to place some gauze and wrap them like I did for your wrists. To keep them clean." He placed the warm, damp cloth on the bottom of her foot and began to gently wipe the blood clean.

She took in a sharp intake of breath. "Why bother?" Franny asked to distract herself.

Everett only stopped his work for a second before he continued his action. Franny watched him, but he didn't look like he was going to speak, so she dropped her eyes to her hands in her lap and began to play with her skirts again.

"A need I guess." Everett mumbled.

Franny looked up at the sound of his voice. He didn't look at her, he just continued to wipe the blood away until he was done. He dropped the cloth to the floor then picked up a gauze pad. He pressed it to the bottom of her foot and began to put the wrap around to hold it in place. A curiosity grew inside her throat and she wanted to ask him the burning question inside herself. His mood seemed agreeable enough where he won't shout at her or attack her with any form of contact.

"Where did you learn to do all this?" She asked.

Everett froze his movements mid-wrap. He lifted his eyes to consider her question. _'Maybe I was wrong to think he was calm enough to talk to.'_

Everett went back to his task, and surprised her with a calm answer. "My ex."

Franny raised a brow at his answer. _'He has a girlfriend, or rather had a girlfriend?'_ Franny bit her lip from the burning need to pry further. Everett glanced up to her with a raised brow, and that is when she noticed she was wiggling from her curiosity. She stopped.

"She is a nurse at the hospital in Todayland by now, but when I was with her she was still in school. Just about finished and I would often help her study. I guess everything stuck." Everett explained. He went back to finish the wrap and began on her other foot.

"Did she leave you because of what happened at Robinson Industries? Because of the burn scar you have?" Franny was hesitant to speak. "Is that why you got so angry at me because she told you that it made you hard to look at?"

Everett tensed up and pressed the gauze pad to hard against her foot and Franny groaned in pain. He glanced up at her briefly then went back to work. His touch rougher than before, and Franny knew she had brought up a touchy subject.

"No." He replied simply. "I doubt she knows about it, well she might from the news, but she wasn't one for TV watching." Everett finished his task and released her foot, and both her legs dangled over the edge of the mattress. "She didn't leave me, I left her. I found her tangled in bedsheets with another guy. It was nice while the relationship lasted because I'll never get another chance to be with someone like that."

Everett began to gather all the tools he brought into the room and took them back into the bathroom. Franny sat there on the bed. "You thought I was her, didn't you?" Franny started to shake as the memories flooded her mind. Her heart beat with a quicker pace. "The last time I was in the basement? Part of you thought I was her. Your ex." Franny watched as he closed the cabinet door and leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom. "You took your anger out on me." She dropped her eyes to her lap again.

"At one point, I saw her in your place, but I knew it was you who was underneath me." Everett had somehow made his way knelt before her again.

His hand placed around her calf again and his hand made a downward motion to her ankle. She tensed up at his cold touch. She watched him carefully and noticed he seemed faraway. His hand made a slow ascend on the back of her leg and goosebumps covered every inch of her legs. When his hand reached behind her knee he stopped, but his thumb rubbed back and forth against her skin. She hadn't realized how close he was until she felt his breath run over her leg and his lips press against her shin. It looked like he was giving her leg a kiss, but his lips only brushed against her skin in the small area they touch.

"So soft. So smooth." He muttered to himself, but Franny heard him. Her eyes grew wide and she felt her heart beat quicker again.

She felt his lips begin to make an upward motion on her leg with light pecks. She started to squirm on the mattress to break his action, but he didn't seem to notice. Franny looked around the room with desperation. She couldn't, no, wouldn't let him touch her that way again. Her eyes looked to the bathroom and wondered if she could get him away from her long enough to lock herself in the bathroom, but she doubted she could. With her bodies current state of damage and weakness Franny tried to find a way to get him to stop without hurting herself or making him hurt her again.

"Everett," she begged, "don't." Franny wasn't sure what else she could do but plead with him to stop and leave her be.

"Shh." Was the sound he made against her skin. His lips had made it up to her kneecap and she hadn't noticed until then that his free hand was also on her body, and both his hands were moving the skirts of her dress up on her thighs. "Don't fight me this time, Franny. Let me show you Cornelius isn't the only one who can make you feel pleasured."

Franny felt the heat rise in her cheeks, but it wasn't from the feeling his touch gave her, it was from the terrifying thought of having him force himself on her again. The inside of her thighs still ached from the first time. Franny clenched her hands in her lap and snapped her eyes closed.

' _Don't do this. Please, please don't do this.'_

Everett's touch disappeared and that made Franny open her eyes again. He stood before her with a calm expression. "I like when you beg Franny."

She had said her plea out loud without her knowing. Her fear spiked when Everett moved to hover above her. Her back connected with the bedspread with her legs still dangled over the edge. Both of Everett's arms were on either side of her and his hips pressed her lower body into the mattress. He wasn't going to let her up. He wasn't going to leave her be. He was going to force himself again, and Franny didn't know what to do to save herself this time. Everett pushed himself from above her and grabbed under her arms to lift her enough so her body was further on the mattress. Franny tried to push herself further away from him as he crawled up to her. Somehow her body was pinned beneath his again.

He leaned his head down towards her, but she pushed her right cheek into the bedspread. His face went straight into her neck, and she felt his nose in her hair as he took in a deep breath. His lip pressed a kiss just under her earlobe and slowly made his way down the curve until he nicked her collar bone. Franny gasped in disgust and tried to wiggle her body from underneath his. His hands grabbed onto her thighs just above her knees and her wiggling stopped from the weight of his body.

"Just relax." He whispered against her neck.

His hand began to travel up her thighs and her skirts went up with his hands. She felt the fabric collect on her hips and Everett grabbed the bunched skirts of her dress and he began to lift it over her stomach. She reached her hands out to grab his and tried to pry her dress free of them, but he wouldn't release and continued to pull it up her torso. He stopped lifting her dress just before the wire of her bra. One of his hands lifted to run through her frizzed hair that she imagined was fanned out around her. His other placed flat against her upper torso and slowly ran around her until it reached her lower stomach. His longest finger brushed under the band of her panties and she tensed her body under his. His finger didn't move further under, but removed when his hand traveled up to her hip and gripped with a strong hold.

"So smooth." His lips traveled up her neck and along her jawline. "Warm." His lips traveled up to the bruised cheek and only brushed his lips against the damaged skin. "I'm glad I actually get to enjoy you underneath me like this. I can make this better for you."

Franny tried to jerk herself from under him and use her hands to push his chest. Her effort seemed to fail her because he didn't move except to press his hips harder into her. Franny started to panic when she felt him on the inside of her thigh. Her breathing got harder and her chest tightened.

"You say," his mouth went back to her ear and his hand on her hip rounded back to her lower stomach while his longest finger slipped back under the waistband to tease her, "that you don't want this with me, but your body seems to think differently." His other fingers slip further under her panties.

"No!" Franny moved her body around to keep him from touching her.

Everett gave her bruised cheek a tender kiss before she felt his hand slip over her. His cold fingers made her whole body tense from shock. She felt his fingers move around, and she shuttered from the icy feel he sent through her. Her hands pushed against his chest to shove as hard as she possibly could.

Everett growled against her cheek and she felt him press himself harder against her thigh. "You keep moving around like that, I won't be able to resist jumping straight to it." His finger threatened to slip inside her.

Her teeth clamp down on her bottom lip, her hands clutch fists of his shirt, and she screamed. She forced her shoulders to dig into the mattress. She felt the coldness sink further in, and she tastes something metallic slip on her tongue. She heard him give a groan when Franny felt his finger slip deeper inside her. She froze.

"NO!"

The cold feeling that seemed to fill her moved around and it made her core clench. She could feel the harsh movement in her, and she dug her toes into the bed as her legs tensed. Her eyes closed as tightly as she could get them, but it didn't help to make her situation any better. She was still laid out on a bed with a man above her. His hands touching her in ways she never thought anyone but her husband would.

A sound. It sounded like glass breaking and a crash of something else coming from the other room. Franny snapped her eyes open.

Everett halted the movement of his finger and Franny looked at the ceiling. Her breathing came out in harsh exhales and loud inhales as he stayed there frozen on top of her. Everett moved to hover above her instead of his face in her cheek. Franny turned her attention to look at Everett with wide, fearful eyes. His met hers and they were hard.

"What was that noise?" Everett asked.

* * *

 **Two cliffhangers back to back? I truly am evil. Maw ha ha.  
Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Leave a thought in the Review section. Would love to hear from you!  
See you all in the next chapter.  
**


	53. Chapter Thirty-Seven

_Nav: I thought it would be fun to end it there. As for who broke in, I'm sorry, but I cannot tell you! I shall leave you to figure that out._

 _Guest: Here is what happens next!_

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Seven  
Caleb

 _Moorestown: Wednesday, September 2nd, 2037_

 **H** e wasn't too sure on what time it was when he stretched his arms over his head and fluttered his eyes. The bright morning sunlight filled the bedroom he was in and nearly blinded his sensitive eyes. He brought his arms down from above his head and used them to help climb off the large hotel bed he slept on. He brushed out as many wrinkles as he could from the shirt he wore until he reached the double doors that lead out of the room. He pulled one of the doors open and stepped out into the sitting area. The cold air swept over his bare arms and he noticed, while he looked around, that the French door was still opened.

' _Wilbur didn't close it last night?'_ Caleb asked himself that question and then about kicked his own butt for even asking it. _'Of course Wilbur didn't close it, clearly if he had then it wouldn't be open right now.'_ Caleb rubbed his arms up and down as he walked around the couch to close the door. He lifted his head up and saw Wilbur passed out on the couch.

His body sprawled out on the cushions. Well half his body was on the cushions and the right half about to fall off. His leg hung over the side; his foot flat on the rug. His arm also hung over the edge and his fingers nearly touched the ground; a pen on the rug near his fingers. His left hand seemed to clench the throw pillow to his chest. His cheek was pressed into the other throw pillow beneath his head with a large wet spot that started from the corner of his opened mouth.

Caleb made his way over to the boy, and stood by his head which was at the end toward the door; his feet at the other end. Caleb dropped his arms to his sides and stood over him. His shadow casted over the sleeping boy. Caleb pressed his fingers in Wilbur's chest and sort of shoved his body into the cushion to try and wake him. He quickly straightened up and waited for Wilbur to wake, but he didn't even stir. Caleb bent over and shoved him again. He got a groan that time, but Wilbur only adjusted his body so his back faced Caleb. He scrunched up his face in annoyance and walked around the coffee table to get back into the bedroom. He turned into the bathroom right off the bedroom door and grabbed a provided cup. He filled it with as much water as he dared. He made his way back into the sitting room.

Caleb stood over Wilbur and moved his arm so the cup hovered above his friend's head. He moved his hand so that the water in the cup moved closer to the edge. He tilted the cup further and the water inside fell out like a waterfall that splashed against some rocks; the rocks being Wilbur's face. After a few seconds of the water hitting his face, Wilbur shook his head and jerked his body up.

"Hey!" Wilbur's hands wiped the water from his eyes and they moved the glare at Caleb. "What the hell was that for?!"

Caleb raised his brows in surprise. "Wow Wilbur, I don't think I've heard you curse before." He gave a large smile to show his teeth covered by braces. "It makes you sound different."

"Why did you pour water on me?" Wilbur growled his question.

Caleb shrugged his shoulders and placed the empty cup down on the coffee table. "You wouldn't wake up."

Wilbur raised his brows in a confused, questionable way. "So, you pour water on my face?" He wiped a few streams of water off his face. "There are better ways to wake someone up you know."

Caleb crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh, I know, but this way was more fun. Now we're even in the rude awakening tally."

Wilbur didn't answer to Caleb and only shook his head while he grumbled something Caleb couldn't hear. Caleb glanced over at the coffee table and noticed the mess of torn paper, plastic bags, and pictures scattered around the clean, smooth surface.

"Did you stay up most of the night looking at these?" Caleb wondered without looking in Wilbur's direction. He leaned over to pick up a picture and looked over at Wilbur with a cocked eyebrow.

Wilbur rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched all at the same time. "Yeah. If what you said is possible, then I wanted to find it as soon as possible." Wilbur slapped his hands on his thighs before he pushed himself up from the couch. He stretched again.

Caleb looked down at the photo he held of Wilbur's mother tied to an old wooden chair. "Did you find anything? Clues?"

Caleb heard Wilbur sigh in disappointment. "Unfortunately, no." He grumbled. "I stayed up most of the night trying to find the tiniest of clues, but so far all I have are more questions to answer."

Caleb put the picture down with the rest of them and turned his attention back to his friend. "I'm sure you'll find something Wilbur. Even if you don't figure out where your mom is by the end of the day, you can give whatever clues you do find to the police and that will give them a step closer to finding her. Then she'll be home before you know it."

Wilbur crushed his eyes closed and tensed his shoulder so they nearly touched the lobe of his ears. "If Everett hasn't killed her yet."

Caleb staggered back a little at the harsh words that came from his mouth. "Wilbur," Caleb lowered his brows, "don't think like that."

Wilbur snapped his eyes to him. "Why not? Everyone else seems to think she's dead. Why shouldn't I?"

Caleb grabbed a hold of his shoulder with a tight grip to relax his tensed shoulders. "Because if you believed she was dead then you wouldn't be here trying to search for her." Wilbur softened his eyes. "You would be at home hoping she isn't found so you wouldn't have to face the reality of her death." Wilbur slumped his shoulders and flopped back down on the couch. "Do you want to try and snatch some breakfast from down stairs?" Caleb offered up. "Maybe after some food and a break you will focus better and revisit your investigation."

Wilbur looked up at him and gave a sigh. "I guess." He got himself up from the couch again and moved around Caleb so he could get to the door. "I'll go down and grab us something. You stay here and occupy yourself until I get back."

Caleb looked around the sitting area quickly before he focused back on Wilbur's body that was halfway out the door. "How am I supposed to do that? There isn't anything in here."

Wilbur poked his head back through the doorway and gave him a shrug. "I don't know what to tell you then." He shot out the door and closed it behind him.

Caleb went to speak but it was too late, Wilbur was already gone. Caleb gave an exaggerated sigh and waved his hand above his head to emphasize his annoyance. Though there was no one else inside the room to witness it, so there was no point to do it. Caleb dropped his body onto the couch and bounced once before he leaned forward to pick the torn paper and notebook up. He flipped through the loose papers and the notebook to find questions Wilbur had written. Some of the same questions were written on each page, and Caleb wondered if he had started over several times. The last page in the notebook with writing on it was full of the same questions as on the torn pages, but it had some that weren't on them. He tossed the loose papers back on the table before him and scanned his eyes over the questions in the notebook.

' _I wonder if Wilbur got any answers to these questions.'_ Caleb ran his eyes across each line that had a reasonable question written. _'Why is the wall made of molded bricks?'_ Caleb read the second question Wilbur had written inside his head and moved his eyebrows closer together. Wrinkles created above the bridge of his nose. He lowered the notebook so he could look at the pictures. There was only one with bricks. The one he had picked up earlier that morning. He reread the question then scanned the photo. With the faint light, it was difficult to see, but Caleb saw the molded bricks Wilbur had asked about. He lifted his head to look at the ceiling while he thought.

Caleb lowered his head back down after a few moments of a blank line where the answer needed to be. He dropped the notebook down onto the glass coffee table then the photo on top of it. He didn't know Wilbur's state of thinking when he wrote down those questions, so Caleb knew it was hopeless to try and figure out an answer. He needed to wait and brain storm when Wilbur got back.

' _How long has he been gone?'_ He wondered.

He used his thighs to help push himself from the couch cushion that seemed to act like quicksand. He clapped his hands before and behind him as he walked around the couch and toward the second set of double doors; opposite of the bedroom ones. Wilbur had left them opened when he searched inside the room yesterday. Caleb slipped his palms inside the back pockets of his jeans when he reached the threshold. He leaned his upper body forward to get a good look around. Like he was asking permission from someone to enter, but there was no one else inside the room so Caleb just lifted a leg and stepped inside.

The room was a lot smaller than the sitting area and bedroom. The floor was marble, a large rug covered most of it, and some furniture rested on top of the thick rug. A couch that matched the other two in the sitting room, a coffee table, two end tables, and a TV stand that held a large flat screen TV. Caleb walked further into the room and up to the coffee table that matched the TV stand and end tables. His fingers wrapped around the remote to turn the TV on. When the screen came on Caleb was met with static. His fingers reached for the little booklet on the coffee table and scanned his eyes over the provided channels he could watch. He switched it to the news channel. Caleb had a hunch that the story about Wilbur's mom would pop up. He hadn't seen the story yet, so he figured it would be good to catch up on what the police knew.

When he turned the channel on they were talking about the latest sports game, and Caleb immediately tuned out before they put him to sleep. He decided to walk around the room to look at all the decorative items the hotel used to make the room look nice. Fake plants, empty picture frames, books tucked into the shelves that have collected dust over the time of neglect. His hand reached out to pick up a small gold bell that didn't even have the bell part. With raised brows, Caleb put it back where he got it and skimmed the spins of the books. None of them held interest to him.

Caleb turned back to face the TV and what he saw on the screen made him gasp. The reporters voice was soft, barely loud enough to hear, so Caleb raced for the remote to turn the volume up. He stared at the screen with wide eyes.

" _-the fathers believe they both disappeared early yesterday morning or late Sunday night. The reason believed for their disappearance is to search for Francesca Robinson. Both parents believe the boys have taken a car from the Robinson garage and police ask that you be on the lookout for a blue 2038 Hyundai Elantra GT with a license plate number of 0HZ2692. Police ask that if you see this car to call in the location."_

The remote slipped from his fingers and bounced off his foot to the rug beneath his sneakered feet. His ears could no longer pick up the sounds of the reporter's voice. His eyes remained wide from the shock of what he had seen and heard on that channel. He felt his breathing increase from the surprise at how fast they were put out on the news.

' _This is bad.'_ Caleb panicked. _'So very, very bad.'_

He moved his feet across the room and back through the doorway when he heard the hotel door close. He skidded to a stop when his eyes spotted Wilbur round the tall, circle table in the hall. Each hand held a paper plate of breakfast food. Wilbur looked at Caleb with surprised eyes. Caleb grabbed Wilbur's arm just above his wrist.

"Hey, Caleb what is-"

"We have a problem." Caleb interrupted with panic clear in his tone. "There is something you need to see."

He pulled on Wilbur's arm and caused the boy to stumble on his feet. Caleb pulled Wilbur through the doorway that separated the sitting area and the room he didn't know what to call. Caleb didn't release the boys arm until they were between the couch and coffee table. Wilbur jerked himself back a little after Caleb released him. His surprised expression turned to one of annoyance.

"What kind of problem could it be to make you look so pale and freaked?" Wilbur asked. "You nearly made me-"

Caleb grabbed Wilbur's chin and forced his head to turn to his left. The news channel still on. "That." After he was sure Wilbur would focus on the TV, Caleb removed his hand from his chin.

He watched as Wilbur's features molded into disbelief. Only after the story had switched to something else did Wilbur look back at Caleb. His brown eyes were large and his mouth opened. Wilbur quickly bend over to put the plates down on the coffee table. His teeth were clamped on his bottom lip when he straightened back up and his palms rubbed against his jeans.

"This is bad Wilbur." Caleb finally spoke after the silence between them dragged on too long.

Wilbur glanced at the screen for a moment then spoke when his eyes returned to Caleb's. "Took my dad a lot less time than I thought to get the police to track us down." Wilbur slipped his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans and shrugged his shoulders when he continued to speak. "Oh well," Wilbur plopped down on the couch, "guess we'll just have to be careful if, when, we go out." Caleb's mouth dropped open from what Wilbur had just said. He watched the teen reach across to grab a piece of bacon.

"Wilbur." Caleb force passed his teeth. "This is bad. So very bad."

Wilbur bit down on the piece of bacon and looked at him with confusion. "Why? We just have to be more careful."

Caleb grabbed the remote and turned the power off. "Why?" Caleb repeated. "Why? Why?!" Caleb dropped the remote on the table with force and turned to focus on Wilbur. "Wilbur, they gave a description of your mother's car. Year, make, and model! They even gave the license plate number!" Caleb's voice started to shout. "Our dads have the police looking for us! We need to stop what we are doing, pack up, and get home before we get in anymore trouble."

Wilbur shot up to his feet. "You agreed to give me until the end of today to find something. Did you lie about that?" His voice became hard.

"I said that before our pictures were plastered on the news channel, Wilbur!" Caleb spat back. "Look, we don't have time to play detective anymore. We are in way over our heads, being hunted down by the police, and running blind. It's like trying to find a needle in a hay stack!"

Wilbur lowered his brows. "So, this is who you are? At the first sign of trouble you just give up entirely?" Wilbur moved his arm around while he spoke. "What happened to the boy who wouldn't let me give up when I wanted to call it quits? First with the phone calls from my dad you wanted to give up and now you want to pack everything up to go home before you give me the rest of my time to find something?!" Wilbur stomped his foot on the rug and balled both his hands into fists at his sides. Caleb noticed the strip of bacon crush in his hand. "That hardly seems fair Caleb!"

"Fair?" Caleb snapped in disbelief. "Fair?! No. What hardly seems fair Wilbur is what you have done to your father! You ran away from your family, probably causing them more pain than they already feel, to go on a mission with a blind eye! You make me feel guilty for leaving my father alone to come make sure you don't do anything stupid!" Caleb's hands waved around as his anger and frustration attacked his body. "You aren't a detective Wilbur! You are doing things illegally and putting yourself in a dangerous situation! You are impulsive! A child! You have no regard for anyone but _yourself!_ " Caleb started to storm out of the room.

"Caleb!" Wilbur shouted behind him.

Caleb spun around on his heels and glared at Wilbur with hard eyes. "I'm going for a walk." Caleb informed with an angered tone. "You are a teenager with this crazy delusion, Wilbur. Thinking you can find your mom. When you are ready to face reality, come find me." Caleb turned his back to him.

"Caleb! Where are you going to go?!" Wilbur shouted after him.

Caleb ignored his raised voice. His feet carried him around the table and he slipped out of the hotel room. His hand pulled the door closed a little harder than he planned, but he didn't stop moving to worry about it. There was a large group of people that waited around the elevator doors. He rounded the group of people, head down, hands in his pockets, and headed for the stairs at the end of the hall. He freed his hands to push his weight against the heavy door and started to race down the steps with quick strides. He went down all ten sets and only stumbled twice. He pulled the door open at the end of the stairs and headed toward the lobby. The revolving door moved to allow him the access to the outside world.

The sun was blinding and the air was chilly. He crossed his arms over his chest, hands gripped the opposite upper arms, and pressed them tightly to his chest. His head moved from left and right several times before he finally moved his feet in the first direction that his brain thought of. He headed down the sidewalk to his right with his head lowered so his eyes looked at the concrete. He moved around the people who were either walked to slow before him or were headed toward him. A few people bump into his shoulders when they pass by him, but Caleb kept his head down while he continued to walk down the sidewalk.

' _He just doesn't see.'_ Caleb crossed the street and entered what looked like a very large park. _'Wilbur just doesn't want to see. His mind is so wrapped around the idea of finding is mom that he can't see what is reality and what is fiction. He can't do this.'_ Caleb slowed his pace down and lifted his head.

The park he found himself in had a large river that split off in different directions. Wooden bridges gave people the chance to cross over the river and continue along the path. Caleb stopped his feet from moving any further.

' _He thinks he can do these things, but he can't. He can't do this.'_ Caleb moved himself to sit down in the grass below a large tree. The shade provided by the thick leaves made the day seem colder than it was already. _'I don't see how he thinks he can find her location if the police can't even keep their focus on the man who is actually behind it to find her.'_ He shook his head and leaned against the trunk of the tree. He closed his eyes before the back of his head connected with the trunk. _'Oh, he can't do this. Wilbur can't do this, at least, at least not without help.'_

Caleb opened his eyes before he ran his fingers through his hair to remove the fallen strands from his eyes. People walked past him without a second glance. Children ran around on the grass fields with others or by themselves. _'Help. I'm trying to help him, but there is only so much that I can offer. I don't know the first thing about finding a missing person.'_ Caleb moved his body so he could lie down in the grass. His hands behind his head and legs crossed at the ankles.

The wind continued to move through the leaves. The blades of grass swayed with each sweep. His cheeks chilled every time the breeze rushed over them. Caleb didn't move from the comfortable position he was in. His eyes remained closed. His breathing slowed and evened out the longer he laid there.

The sound of someone's deep sigh and their knee brushed his arm made Caleb tense all muscles in his body and froze. He felt eyes on him but Caleb didn't move.

"Are you ignoring me on purpose?" The sound of Wilbur's voice made Caleb peek an eye open.

After he got a good look at his friend, Caleb relaxed and closed his eye again. After he got back in his comfortable position he spoke up. "No. I thought you were a random person I didn't know." He responded with a calm, bored tone.

"Why would a random person sit next to you?" Wilbur asked.

Caleb gave a shrug of his shoulders. "A creepy person? I don't know." Caleb peeked his eye open to see Wilbur leaned back on his arms and his head turned up to the branches that offered them shade. "But then again you're sitting next to me." Caleb smirked after he closed his eye again.

Wilbur gave Caleb a shove and he turned over onto his side. "Hey! Rude."

Caleb couldn't help but laugh. He turned his body so his torso pressed into the grass. He propped himself up with his elbows to look in Wilbur's direction. Wilbur didn't look at him. His head was faced upward to the leaves again. "Hey listen Wilbur," Caleb fiddled with his fingers, "I'm sorry about-"

"Don't worry about it." Wilbur interrupted him. "You were scared. I can understand that. I'm sure you didn't mean everything you said." Wilbur gave him a small reassured smile.

Caleb turned his face and used his hands to push himself up in a sitting position. "Yeah, not everything."

Silence seeped between the two boys and Caleb used his fingers to play with the grass that looked like it was dancing from the wind that rippled pass it. His legs crossed beneath him, shoulders hunched over, and elbows on his knees. His hands in his lap with a blade of long grass he messed with. The birds that flew through the park chirped their happy songs to others. Caleb looked up from the blade of grass to Wilbur when he cleared his throat.

"I got concerned after an hour passed and you didn't come back." Wilbur looked straight ahead to the wide river on the other side of the path. "Then I started to panic after two and half hours. When four hours passed, I was freaking out. I thought you had died or gotten taken by the police."

Caleb looked guilty. "I hadn't realized so much time had passed. It only felt like a few moments that I've left." He tossed the blade of grass away.

Wilbur smirked. "No, it's been nearly five hours Caleb. That's counting the time it took to pack all of our stuff up and find you."

Caleb noticed the backpack Wilbur had by his side for the first time. "Pack?" Caleb raised a brow in question. "Does that mean we are going home?"

Wilbur closed his eyes, his face was still turned toward the river, and he bit his bottom lip with his teeth. After a few seconds, Wilbur finally released his lip, let a heavy sigh escape his mouth, and turned his opened eyes to Caleb. "Yes, but not now. It's only three in the afternoon, so that means I have a little time left to find some clue."

Caleb inhaled a deep breath before he spoke. "Look Wilbur. I know I've said this probably a hundred times already, but-"

"I know that we are only teenagers. We aren't police. We aren't detectives. We have no clue as to what we are doing. We've stolen and broken so many rules,"

"You mean _you_." Caleb crossed his arms over his chest.

"but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try to find something with the time we have left. Anything to give the police so I don't feel like I did nothing to help find my mother." Wilbur continued as though Caleb hadn't interrupted. He looked at Wilbur's saddened face. His eyes were glassy and filled with tears. One slipped from his lashes before he spoke again. "I know what you think about my actions since I told you what I was doing, but you don't know how it feels Caleb. You can't possibly understand how it feel to have no power over what is happening. To know that one of your parents have been ripped from you and there is nothing you can do. That's why I don't care what it takes. How many laws I break. I need to offer some help to bring her home."

Caleb watched Wilbur wipe the streams from his face. Caleb looked away with building tears behind the rims of his own eyes. "Actually," a drop fall past his lashes and fell onto his cheek bone and felt it descend to his jaw, "I do know what that feels like." His eyes closed and another tear slipped passed his eye. "I lost my mother in a plane crash a few years ago. I was six, maybe seven, when it happened." His throat tightened and his voice rose in tone from the strain. "She was coming back from visiting her sister in London. Something went wrong with an engine and the plane crashed near the airport. She survived the crash, but when father and I went to go see her," Caleb looked up from the ground and wipe under an eye, "her entire body was nearly covered in severe burns. She was delusional. She kept screaming for someone to help her get out of the plane. Like she didn't know she was already out and in the hospital."

Caleb felt a hand touch his arm, but he didn't look at the boy he knew it belonged to. He wiped his fingertips under his eye again just as he continued. "Father and I sat with her until she was nothing more. I was alone in the room, father went to get something to eat for us both, when it happened. I can still remember her ragged breathing. The constant beep of the heart monitor. The gasp of breath she took before she took no more. The annoying beep of a dead heart on the monitor. So yes, I do know what it feels like to have no power over what is happening. I know what it is like to lose a parent."

"Caleb,"

He put a palm up to stop Wilbur from speaking. "I don't want your pity, your sympathy, or for you to tell me you're sorry." Caleb wiped all his tears away and took in a shaky breath. "You don't need to feel sorry for me because it was not your fault. I shared that haunting past with you so that you can know that I do understand what you are going through. I know how it feels. I can relate."

Silence fell between the boy again for what seemed like a long time until Wilbur finally got the courage to say something.

"Help me. In these few hours that we have, help me find something." Caleb watched Wilbur dig in the bag he used for school. He pulled out the notebook and opened it to the page with all his questions. All the photos had been tucked between that page and the on before it. "I have questions about some of the things in the photos, and I bet if you brainstorm with me we are bound to find something useful. Even if it is small." Wilbur turned his eyes to Caleb.

"Okay Wilbur." He replied. "Let's see if we can guess an answer to those questions."

Wilbur gave a small smile that made his red cheeks brighten in color. His swollen eyes pink and his lashes stuck together from the tears. He placed the photos in a pile on the grass between his crossed legs, and held the book so they both could see the written words.

"I promise that if we find something or not, we will go home when the sun sets."

Caleb gave Wilbur a nod of his head to say he believed him. He grabbed the edge of the notebook with a hand and read the first question out loud.

"Why did the bricks catch your eye, Wilbur?" Caleb wondered. "That's a strange thing to notice."

Wilbur gave a shrug of his shoulders before he responded. "I'm not sure. But the fact they were molded and old means she is being kept somewhere abandoned. No one is there to care for them. Keep them clean."

Caleb raised his brows in understanding. "I guess that is something. But what building could have bricks like that?"

Wilbur sighed. "I'm not sure, but these photos might help us to figure it out."

Wilbur let his hand on the notebook fall, and Caleb held it in mid-air as he watched Wilbur. The teen grabbed the pile of photos from between his crossed legs and looked them over. He put one back and held three in his hands. His mother pressed against the shower wall, sat in a dining room, and asleep on a couch.

"In these photos we can see small details. A bathroom. A dining room. A couch I'm guessing is most likely in a living room. My mom has to be in a house or apartment." Wilbur pointed out. "But the question remaining is where? What town? What city could he be keeping her in?"

Caleb grabbed one of the photos from Wilbur's hand and looked at it closely. The dining table was made of dark wood and food placed before his mother; untouched it looked like. Her eyes were wide and he could clearly see fear, but also something else. The archway behind her lead to another room, but Caleb couldn't see what it was.

"I'd say she is in a house, not apartment. The structure is more house like and there is the fact of the basement from the first picture you guys received." Caleb pointed out.

Wilbur looked at the notebook page with all his written questions. Caleb raised a brow at Wilbur when he started to mumble to himself. His brown eyes moved along the page.

"Could Everett be keeping her in his house? I mean, that would explain the bricks." Caleb asked.

Wilbur dropped the notebook in his lap with a shake of his head. "No. The police already searched his home in Todayland. There was nothing there. He had already packed and moved to start his new job." Wilbur said nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders. He went back to looking over the notebook.

"Where did he move to?" Caleb asked.

Wilbur didn't look up when he spoke. "He moved to Moores…town." When Wilbur spoke the name of the city, he lifted his head up and stared at the river with wide eyes.

Caleb dropped the picture he held and waved his hands in front of him before he spoke. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on a second. Here?" Caleb pointed to the ground with a finger. "He moved here?"

"Yeah." Wilbur answered with a breathy whisper. "That must be how he knew we were going to be here that weekend. How he knew Mom would be here."

Caleb looked at the side of Wilbur's face with wide eyes. "Do you think he was at the concert hall that night?"

"It's possible." He final looked over to Caleb. "I mean I wouldn't put it past him."

Caleb gasped and grabbed a hold of Wilbur's arm. "Do you think Everett is keeping our mother here? In this city?"

Wilbur seemed to think deeply for a few moments before he spoke. His finger and thumb grabbed his chin and his eyes scanned along the grass. "I don't think so. But, I have a thought. The messages."

"What about the messages?" Caleb released Wilbur's arm with a shake of his head and a raised brow.

"He was going to deliver the last one himself, but you said that because there were police at the house he couldn't, so he made you do it. Which leads me to believe that he didn't send the first package to us through the mail. He personally put it on our doorstep himself."

"But why would he deliver it himself? Todayland is five hours away from here. Longer depending on traffic. So why would he drive that far away just to deliver a message?" Caleb noticed that Wilbur wasn't really listening to what he was saying. He was off in his own mind.

"He's not here. He's there."

"What?"

"There." Wilbur muttered again. "He's there. That's how he knows everything. About the police always at the house. About Caleb being my friend. How he could drop the package off in the middle of the night. To watch my family." Wilbur was talking to himself like Caleb wasn't even there.

Caleb just continued to watch Wilbur talk to himself with slight concern. "Wilbur," Caleb swallowed and hesitated with continuing, "you think he's in Todayland? That he is keeping your mother in Todayland right under your nose?"

Wilbur shook his head. "No. No, Everett is smarter than that. I don't think he's keeping my mother _in_ the city, but close enough to where he can still know firsthand on what is going on with my family and the police investigation."

"But, there isn't anything within miles of the city. Certainly, nothing that would resemble where she is being kept within the city or around it." Caleb lifted the picture he had before him again. "If she is being kept in a house, then she has to be in a small town maybe. They don't make houses like this anymore. The walls, the old carpet, and the basement made of bricks. There isn't a building in Todayland that is made like this anymore. Hasn't since before we were born, or maybe even thought."

The sound of Wilbur gasping pulled Caleb's head up to look at him. His brown eyes were wide and bright. His mouth in the shape of an oval. "That's it!" Wilbur spun his upper body to face Caleb. His hands grabbed both of his upper arms. "Caleb! You're a genius!"

Caleb grew confused. "Uh, um, okay? I don't see how."

"You just said that there isn't a building in Todayland that is made like that anymore."

"Yeah, but I'm still lost on how,"

" _In Todayland."_ Wilbur put emphasis on those two words in hope that maybe Caleb would get it, but it didn't click so he just stared at Wilbur. " _In_. Key word."

"Okay? So, what does that mean?"

Wilbur quickly released Caleb's arms and shot up from the ground. The notebook held in his hand, Caleb watched his body race across the grass.

"Wilbur?" Caleb called out in question. The boy didn't stop running down the path. "Wilbur, wait." Caleb quickly stuffed the loose photos into the school bag and got himself up to run after the teen boy. "Wilbur!" He called as he raced a little ways behind him. "Wait! What does that mean?!"

* * *

 **Oooooooh! Hope you enjoyed this chapter guys.  
Leave your lovely thoughts and see if you can guess what will happen next or where Everett has Franny locked away!  
See you in the next chapter! Review!  
**


	54. Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Eight  
Wilbur

 _Outskirts of Moorestown: Wednesday, September 2nd, 2037_

 **H** is eyes began to blink sooner and sooner. The weight that pressed against each lid grew heavier and heavier until they closed for a few seconds. He jolted himself awake. Readjusting his body in the seat to wake himself up. He shook his head then flexed his fingers against the wheel of the car. After he finished he glanced in Caleb's direction. The boy was in the passenger seat next to him. His body leaned over so his head rested against the glass of the window. Arms crossed over his stomach. Eyes closed. Asleep.

Wilbur turned his head back to the black sky after he took a quick peek at the clock. It was a little after eleven. They had only been driving for a little over an hour. He prolonged their departure until the last second. He wanted to make sure he was right. He had to be positive about what he thought. The longer he sat to think about it the more he knew it had to be. It just had to be right? It was the only way that made since to him. The moment Wilbur was nearly a hundred percent certain, they took off for home.

' _I'm right.'_ Wilbur rubbed his eye when it started to itch. _'I have to be right. It is the only place that makes sense, and I'm going to prove that. Caleb,'_ he peeked at his friend again, _'I'm sorry. I know you will be angry with me, but this is something I must do. You have a choice and I won't hold it against you. Whatever it is that you choose to do.'_

He sighed heavily with a shrug of his shoulders. The heavy weight tied to his lids increased. They blinked slower and slower. The time between closing and opening them again prolonged until they closed and stayed closed. His head swayed from the tired wave that crashed over him. His hands started to slip and the wheel turned to follow his hands. The car jerked.

"Wilbur!"

He jumped in his seat and gasped. Wilbur turned the wheel and straightened the car out before it would connect with a tree. He took a few deep breaths to calm his thumped heart. He looked over to Caleb to see his frightened expression.

"I'm sorry. I guess I closed my eyes to long."

He saw Caleb looked over to him from the corner of his eye. "Maybe you should land the car and take a nap?"

"No, I'll be okay."

"Wilbur, we still have a four-hour drive until we get home. I would really rather not die in the middle of nowhere." Caleb snapped. Wilbur looked in his direction again. "Look, you've barely slept in the last two days. It would be better for everyone if you just sleep for a few hours."

Wilbur raised a brow. "Aren't you the one who desperately wants to get home?"

"Yes, but I want to get home alive."

Wilbur took a deep breath in through his nose before he began to turn the wheel. The car made its way closer to the ground. He carefully landed the car near a few trees then cut the engine off. The headlights switched off after a few moments which allowed the darkness around them to swallow the car whole. Wilbur removed the key from the starter only to place them in a cup holder. He pushed the overhead light so he could see Caleb's face.

"An hour at the most. That is all." Wilbur directly said. "No longer than that."

Caleb grabbed his shoulder. "Seriously Wilbur, don't worry about how long you sleep. Sleep until you are rested. We are still going to arrive home tomorrow, even if you don't sleep now."

"I get that." Wilbur snapped.

"I know I said I wanted to get home, but sleeping for a little bit is not going to kill me." Caleb removed his arm from Wilbur's shoulder and wiggled his body until he got comfortable in the passenger seat. Arms crossed over his stomach.

Wilbur let his annoyance be known with a loud, over exaggerated, sigh. He unbuckled his seatbelt then climbed over the seats to get to the back. He sprawled his body out and used a jacket he found on the floorboard as a pillow. He tucked both his hands under his head. Wilbur blinked his eyes a few times then focused on the back of the driver's seat.

"Night, Wilbur." Caleb spoke from the front. His arm shot out quickly to hit the light so it would turn off.

The car was engulfed in darkness once again.

For the longest time, Wilbur just blinked and stared at the back of the seat. He tried to sleep, but it seemed that all the tired he felt earlier was gone. He adjusted his position. His back pressed into the seat. Hands folded on his stomach. Legs crossed at his ankles. His brown eyes stared at the clean, fabric, ceiling of his mother's car. He was surprised at how clean it was after all the times he had squeezed juice pouches.

Wilbur stretched his body out with a yawn. His eyes closed after his muscles relaxed.

* * *

 _Between the City Limits: Thursday, September 3rd, 2037_

 **H** is eyes kept going between the clock and the gage that told him his speed. The big block numbers kept changing from seventy-five and seventy-eight. How did his mom manage to keep the speed at one number? Wilbur found the longer he drove the car the easier driving the Time Machine seemed to him. He looked away from the gage back to the sky. Nothing but trees below and clouds above. He was bored and Caleb was still asleep so he couldn't have a conversation with him. He groaned to himself.

Wilbur pushed the wheel forward to make the car go faster in an attempt to get where he needed quicker. The car reached eighty before it sputtered. Wilbur's eyes widened and his heart beat a little faster. He pushed the wheel of the car forward once more but the car sputtered again.

' _That's not a pretty sound.'_

Caleb stirred from his sleep and rubbed his eyes as he looked around confusingly. "What was that?" Wilbur looked over to Caleb when the car jerked roughly. "Wilbur?" His voice rose to show panic.

Wilbur returned his attention to the sky. He quickly moved the wheel so the car descended to the ground at a fast pace. Just as the wheels made contact with the grass the engine cut off without him touching the key. Everything around them was quiet. Wilbur had his fingers wrapped around the wheel. His back straightened in the seat with his shoulders tensed.

"Wilbur, why have we stopped?" Caleb asked in a tone that was both fearful and dangerous.

"Uh," Wilbur turned his head with a wide guilty smile, "we may have, um, the car has no more gas."

Caleb looked at Wilbur with panic and anger. "What do you mean 'the car has no more gas'?" He forced through his clenched teeth.

"Exactly what it means. The car is empty. No gas to run it." Wilbur said with a nervous chuckle.

Caleb lowered his brows at Wilbur and he immediately stopped his chuckle. Wilbur quickly unbuckled his seatbelt then opened the door to his side. He grabbed the keys from the starter before he slipped from the seat. He closed the door then opened the one next to it. Wilbur slipped his arms through the jacket he had used as a pillow then tossed his school bag over his chest.

"Guess we walk from here until we can find a monorail station." He closed the door.

Wilbur moved his body to get to the front of the car. He watched as Caleb scrambled from the passenger seat to get to him. He adjusted the strap across his chest. Caleb stomped up to him with a frown.

"Walk from here? Here?" Caleb asked. "Where is _here_ , Wilbur? Do you even know where we are?" Caleb seemed to get angrier the more he asked questions.

Wilbur fished his phone from his pocket to check the GPS he had been using. "Well, according to this we are an hour away from being halfway between Todayland and Moorestown. So, if we start walking in the direction of home we should encounter a station soon. I could GPS the nearest one if it helps."

Caleb stomped his foot. "Ugh!" He screamed.

Wilbur cocked a brow while he watched Caleb stomp around. "Someone is grumpy this afternoon."

Caleb spun on him so fast he was sure Caleb would have stumbled if he wasn't angry. "Grumpy? Grumpy?!" He started to shout. "I am not grumpy, Wilbur! I am _way_ beyond that. I am exasperated! Look where you have gotten us, Wilbur! We are in the middle of nowhere, our car is out of gas, our fathers are probably freaking out, and we now have to walk to get home!" Caleb pulled his phone from his pocket. "And there is no service!"

Wilbur glanced down at his phone. "Well you might not have any, but I've got two bars. And we don't have to walk all the way home. It says the closest monorail station is six miles from here."

"You do realize how far six miles is, right? That will take hours to get to."

"Well, if you would stop standing here and yelling at me then we can start walking to get there as soon as we can." Wilbur rolled his eyes and shoved his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. He moved his feet to head in the direction he needed.

"Wait! Are you just gonna leave the car here?" Caleb called from behind him.

Wilbur lifted the keys over his head and hit the lock button twice. He heard the beep of the lock and shoved the keys in his school bag. "Yes, I'm just gonna leave the car there." He said.

Wilbur gripped the strap of his bag and heard the running feet of Caleb behind him. "What if someone finds the car?"

Wilbur shrugged. "Not like they can drive it anywhere. They don't have the key and it's out of gas."

"I meant, what if someone calls it in? Remember your mom's car has been put on the news, so it could be phoned in to the police." Caleb pointed out.

"So, what if someone does. We aren't going to be anywhere near the car. Let's stop focusing on 'what if's' and focus on getting to the station before it gets dark." Wilbur glanced in Caleb's direction to see him looking in every direction except his.

Wilbur rolled his eyes from annoyance and moved his legs to a comfortable stride. Caleb fell a little behind him, but was still close enough that he had no need to look back. It surprised Wilbur after a few moments that Caleb remained silent. He figured that he would continue to shout at him. Call him irresponsible. Or whatever else he could think of inside his head, but he didn't. Caleb remained silent. So, in turn, Wilbur kept quiet also. His thoughts the only voice to speak.

He was worried. What if he was wrong about where is mother truly was? He worried about what would happen when they arrived back home, and Caleb learned what he was really going to do. He would probably yell at him. Call him an idiot. Stupid. Most likely try to stop him from doing it, but Wilbur knew it was something he had to do. He needed to do it. Not the police. Not his father. Him, and him alone. He had a huge hunch. Everett gave the pictures as a map, and Caleb helped to get Wilbur's mind thinking.

' _He has to be keeping her close to Todayland.'_ Wilbur lowered his brows as his mind thought. _'It is the only way he can know firsthand what is happening with my family. How he could deliver the messages himself and know when we get them. How we react to them. But he is smart, so he wouldn't be keeping her_ in _the city itself. No, I know I wouldn't. He has to be keeping her close to us.'_

Wilbur watched his dirty, old conver covered feet move forward along the dirt and grass. His mind continued to race with several questions and different reasons he had to be right. He just had to be right. If he wasn't, then he had no clue what to do next.

His heart seemed to ache in his chest. It struggled to beat as he felt it break behind his ribcage. He missed his mom. He felt the pain of her kidnapping and abuse harder than he ever thought he could. He wished it was him. He wished more than anything that Everett would have taken him instead of his mother. She didn't deserve anything that had happened to her. Did anyone really deserve that kind of treatment?

' _Well,'_ Wilbur smirks, _'maybe Everett does, but maybe worse than what I see he's done to my mom. Wait,'_ Wilbur's eyes widened after a scary thought passed through, _'what if he's done more to her than what I could see?'_ Wilbur shook his head.

He scolded himself, and forced himself to not think of it. He forced his mind to shut off. He refused to think of his mother, of Everett, his family, or why Caleb and he were where they were. He just walked with Caleb a few steps before him.

' _Wait, when did he get in front of me?'_

Wilbur forced his legs to quicken, so he could catch up to him. Caleb still looked angry when he got a look at his face, but not as bad as before. He knew Caleb had calmed a little from before. His eyes looked straight ahead until they looked in his direction.

Caleb raised a brow in question then looked forward again. "You sure are quiet, Wilbur."

Wilbur turned his eyes away to watch where his feet took him. "I wasn't sure what to talk about. You were screaming at me earlier."

Caleb scoffed. "You deserved that, Wilbur. I am still angry, but I'm not going to yell at you again." He paused. "Unless you do anything else stupid."

Wilbur couldn't help the nervous laugh that escaped his lips. "Well," he cleared his throat, "you know me, Caleb. I think I will do more stupid things in the future. Maybe you can yell at me for them."

Caleb looked at him with annoyance. "Yeah, that better be a long time from now. I don't think I can handle anything else right now."

Wilbur bit his bottom lip. "I'll do my best." His hand rubbed the back of his neck.

Wilbur knew that Caleb would blow his top the moment he found out what he was going to do once they got to the city. He was positive about that.

Both boys fell into a silence again. Wilbur reached inside his pocket to pull his phone out. He hit the power button so the screen would light up and show him the GPS. They still had over and hour and a half until they reached the nearest station. Wilbur hoped they would get there fast because his bag was killing his shoulder. He adjusted the strap so it rested on the other shoulder.

They walked and walked along the dirt path that had patches of grass scattered around. Several shadows of other flying cars would rush over the ground, but Wilbur wasn't too worried about them. There was a good distance between the ground and the sky, so he was sure that the people couldn't see who they were. At least he hoped they couldn't see who they really were.

Wilbur pulled his jacket around his body when a strong gust of wind blew past him. He heard the rustle of the leaves from the branches of the trees near them. A few creaks came from the larger branches that moved from the strong gust. Once the wind stopped, Wilbur dropped his arms to let his jacket fall loose again. He untwisted the strap to his bag when the adjuster started to cause pain from digging in to deep. He rubbed the sore spot with his fingertips for a moment then dropped his hand to push it in his jacket pocket.

The silence around them grew longer the further they seemed to walk, and Wilbur started to feel awkward and uneasy. So, he tried to focus of his footsteps.

Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot kicked a rock a few feet ahead. His left foot pressed a patch of grass into the dirt after a few strides. He lifted his head up to look forward. The bright sunlight made his eyelids squint. His hand freed itself from the pocket of his jacket to brush the fallen strands of his hair from his eyes. Wilbur felt how oily his hair was. He wiped his hand against the rough fabric of his jeans then slipped his phone free. He looked at the GPS.

"Caleb," Wilbur turned to look at his friend that fell a few steps behind him, "it says we are only a little less than an hour away." He held the phone out so he could see.

"Well, then let's hurry up. I just want to get home already." Caleb said and his stride picked up.

Wilbur shoved his phone back into his pocket and matched his pace to Caleb's. He switched the strap to his other shoulder and shoved both hands into his jacket pockets. He kept his head down to watch his feet move back and forth. Caleb's shoes came in the corner of his eye then would leave only to come back.

To Wilbur, it seemed to take forever until the tracks for the monorail came into view. Caleb was the one to point them out. The moment they were spotted Caleb grabbed Wilbur's arm and pulled him. Wilbur's feet stumbled until they caught themselves. Caleb made their pace into one of sprint and it wasn't long until the station appeared before their eyes. Caleb continued to pull Wilbur across the dirt and grass until they reached the concrete steps. Caleb nearly made Wilbur trip on the steps, but he caught himself.

Once they got to the platform, Caleb released his arm and moved over to the closest bench. Wilbur followed and took his bag off. He placed it on the ground next to him. Neither of them said a word while they waited for the next monorail to come. The awning above the station shielded the sun from his eyes, and Wilbur didn't have to squint to see. He kept on the lookout for any sign of the monorail. It didn't take long for one to race down the track and slow to a stop at the station.

Every car was empty, and Wilbur was thankful. He really did not need someone to stop him from doing what he needed to do. Caleb got up and headed for a car. Wilbur grabbed his bag and headed for a car as well. Caleb slid in first and Wilbur followed. The glass domes of each car closed after Wilbur hit the yellow button. He scrolled through the list of cities until he found the one that said Todayland and pressed it. The address popped up and the computer system tracked the GPS trail in a blue, highlighted path. The screen asked if it was the right location, Wilbur hit the 'go' button, and the monorail began to take off along the track.

Wilbur glanced over to Caleb to see him watching the outside world pass by much quicker than it had been for the past two hours. Wilbur took note of Caleb's hands twisting his phone around in his lap. The GPS that showed before them on the screen informed Wilbur that they would arrive back home in a little less than four hours. With the monorail moving over a hundred miles, he saw no problem of getting home. Around six in the evening was when they should arrive in the city.

His back slouched against the plush, leather seat and his hands reached for his bag. He dug through the crowded interior until he found the picture frame he took from his father's shelf. The bright smile his mother gave the camera made his heart warm. Wilbur looked at the picture of his mother for the most part of the trip. His fingers touched the glass to make it seem like he actually touched her. That she was right in front of him.

It wasn't until hours later that Wilbur lifted his attention from the photo to the boy who sighed loudly. He noticed that the sky was darker than it had been when he first looked at the picture. He quickly shoved it back into his bag before he looked out the glass dome. Off in the distance, Wilbur could see the glow of the city. His home. Part of him was glad to be back home, but there was another part of him that was afraid. He wasn't afraid of how his father would react when he would see him. Wilbur wasn't sure when that would be, but he knew it wouldn't be when they got off the monorail. No. His hands placed flat against the glass as he continued to look at the city. Wilbur decided that he wouldn't tell Caleb about what he was going to do until after they arrived at the station.

Wilbur turned his head, his hands still pressed to the glass, to look at Caleb; who didn't look like he moved at all. Caleb had come with him to help Wilbur make sense of how his mother could be taken from his life. He helped Wilbur open his mind to find the secret of the pictures. To find the map that was in them. Because of Caleb, Wilbur might have figured out where his mother was being kept, but he was not going to ask Caleb to continue with him. He turned his head back to the glass and saw the city was much closer. They would soon be within the tall buildings that made up the place he called home.

' _The next step in my mission will most likely be the most dangerous thing I'll do. I won't make Caleb come with me. I don't know what will happen when I get there, and I can't drag him into that.'_ Wilbur watched as the monorail passed by the first building as they officially entered the city of Todayland.

Wilbur turned his body away from the glass and forward again to look at the GPS. They had a few minutes until they reached the station, so Wilbur made sure he had everything. All the pictures and letters, picture frame that was his dad's favorite, his mom's camera, and the notebook with all his notes. Wilbur pulled the book out and pulled the folded piece of paper that stuck out and shoved it into his jacket pocket.

The monorail slowed down and came to a stop at the main station. Wilbur quickly shoved his notebook into his bag and closed it. The glass domes lifted and Wilbur threw his strap on his shoulder then stood from his seat. He climbed out and worked his way through the crowd with his head low. He didn't stop his feet until he was far enough away from the crowd of people. Wilbur noticed the time on the large clock, it was nearing six-forty. Wilbur turned his head around to look for Caleb and he found him by the board for arrivals and despatchers. He made his way over to him.

"So, I think we need to take the monorail at station four." Caleb said as he looked at Wilbur. "That one looks like it stops at the station closest to your house. Which is where I think my dad would be."

Wilbur grabbed the strap to his bag with both hands and grip it tightly. His teeth bit down into his lip to nervously chew the chapped skin. "Yeah, um, about that."

' _Well, here goes nothing. Prepare for the outburst, Wilbur.'_

"We won't be taking that train."

Caleb lowered his brows, tilted his head to look at him confusingly. "What do you mean?" He glanced at the board again. "It's the train we need to take to get to your house. I mean, unless you want to walk."

"No, I mean, _we_ aren't taking that train. You are." Wilbur held his breath.

Caleb crossed his arms over his chest. "What do you mean by that? Where are you going?"

Wilbur lifted a hand up to the back of his neck and rubbed his fingers in the hair at the back of his head. "I, I'm, I, uh," Wilbur stuttered, "I'm going to finish what I started."

Caleb widened his eyes. "Are you going to the police station, so you can give them the clues we found?"

Wilbur shook his head. "No, I'm gonna go find my mom. I started this mission with the mind set of finding her, so I'm going to where I think he is keeping her."

Caleb's expression turned into one of anger. "Wilbur!" He exploded. "You promised we would go home on this day."

Wilbur held up a finger to stop him. "I did say we would go home, and technically we are home, so I kept my promise." Wilbur crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. "But I never said I would go to my house. I am not stopping halfway through."

Caleb grabbed his arms tightly and shook him hard. "Are you out of your mind?! Wilbur, you can't do that! I won't let you!"

Wilbur jerked himself away from Caleb. "Yes, I can, and I will do this! I have too. I will not allow my mother to be in his presences any longer. I have to get her away from him, so he can't hurt her anymore!"

"Then tell the police where you think Everett is keeping her!" Caleb growled at him. His fists balled at his sides. "I don't see why you have to be the one to do this!"

"The police are too busy trying to pin the blame on my dad to focus on finding my mom! I'm tired of waiting for other people to decide when my life will be okay again! When my mom will be a part of it again! I'm done waiting. I'm taking control." Wilbur grabbed the strap to his bag in both hands. "Look Caleb, I know that you think I'm impulsive and rush into things without thinking, but I've thought about nothing but this the entire ride over here. My mind was made up even before I fully knew what I planned to do. I'm terrified, but that isn't going to stop me and neither will you."

Caleb went to interrupt him, but Wilbur shook his head and continued to speak.

"I already know what you are going to say, so there is no need to say it. I'm not going to ask you to come with me, because I don't know how it will play out. It might end up bad and I wouldn't forgive myself if you got hurt. I've already dragged you in too deep as it is. Go home Caleb. Go to my house, find my dad and tell him what I'm doing. Where I'm going. I don't care, but this is where we separate." Wilbur turned his body around to head for the station number he needed.

"Wilbur," Caleb's voice called over the loud crowd of people, "where is it you're going? Where is your mom being kept?"

Wilbur turned his head and stopped walking only long enough to give him a quick answer before his body took off for the monorail.

"The old Todayland. Old Town."


	55. Chapter Thirty-Nine

_Guest: I'm glad you liked the last chapter. We shall see if Wilbur can finish his mission alone. Hope you enjoy this chapter._

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Chapter Thirty-Nine  
Cornelius

 _Todayland: Thursday, September 3rd, 2037_

 **C** ornelius leaned his backside against the edge of his office desk after he spoke into the phone. He crossed his free arm over his torso and rested it against his ribs. He could hear the smack of lips before the voice spoke.

"Good evening, Mr. Robinson. It's Chief Barry with the Todayland Police Department." He heard the man speak from the other side of the line. His voice sounded hard and tired. Possibly frustrated.

Cornelius closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He really didn't feel like talking to him. "Yes, Hello Chief Barry." He made his voice sound as casual as possible. "I was informed that you had something important to tell me?"

Chief Barry was silent for a moment. Cornelius could hear another voice in the background before he heard the clear voice in the speaker. "Yes, Mr. Robinson, we got a call regarding the disappearance of your son and his friend."

Cornelius' body straighten to attention. Forced off the desk; his eyes wide. "What? What is it that you've heard?" His voice was no longer calm, but rushed.

"Someone called in your wife's car, Mr. Robinson." Chief Barry stated. "An onlooker stopped to see if they needed help. He recognized the car from the news channel yesterday."

Cornelius spun his body around so his back was to the glass wall. His free hand pressed into the wood of his desk. "What of the boys? Are they alright? Are they with you right now?" Cornelius pushed out each question quickly for the panic inside him began to rise. _'Was Wilbur hurt?'_

"When the car was found, neither of the boys were inside. We have a search party looking around the surrounding area, but we think they are ways away from the car." He responded.

Cornelius heaved a deep sigh from frustration. Where had his son and friend gone? He pushed himself up and hooked his hand on his belt. "Where was the car found?"

"It was left nearly halfway between Moorestown and Todayland. We think the boys are headed back to Todayland, so I am head back to the city now to continue looking for them." Chief Barry spoke.

Cornelius closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Thank you for informing me, Chief. Let me know if you find anything else about the boys or my wife." He didn't wait for him to give him a response before he put the phone back on the dock.

His hands ran through his unrulily hair then down the sides of his face until his palms rested on both sides of his neck. His body turned to face the large wall of window to look upon the city. The sun close to the horizon line off in the distance that made the sky dark purple with splashes of orange and golden yellow. Cornelius gave off yet another heavy sigh before his body turned away from the window. He stepped up to his desk to begin shoving folders into his leather bag to take work home with him to try and occupy his drowned mind. He swung the strap on his shoulder. He switched his computer off, grabbed the forgotten cup of coffee from earlier that day, and headed for the door of his office. He switched the light out before he locked it. His feet shuffled him down the hall to the elevator. He leaned against the wall of the glass elevator as it descended to the first floor. He looked down at the paper coffee cup in his hand. He raised a brow then brought the cup to his lips. The coffee that was once hot was now ice cold. He choked on it and made a face. Once the door to the elevator opened, he stepped out and immediately dropped the cup into the trashcan. His feet carried him through the lobby to the front desk.

Alexander was sat in the chair with a newspaper held up to his face. The chair leaned back to get him more comfortable. He turned the paper to a new page when Cornelius approached the desk.

"Evening, Alexander." Cornelius gave him a nod.

Alexander dropped the paper from his face and folded it back up to place on top of the desk. "Headed home, Mr. Robinson?" He asked.

Cornelius tapped his palm on the desk then curled his fingers into a fist. "Yeah, but I wanted to let you know I got a call from Chief Barry. About the boys."

"What did he say? They find the boys?" Alexander asked with curious and hopeful eyes.

Cornelius shook his head with disappointment. "They found the car the boys used to travel in nearly halfway between here and Moorestown. But the boys were nowhere in sight. They probably left the car and went out on foot. Chief Barry seems to think they are headed back here." Cornelius explained. "Chief Barry is headed back here to continue his search for them and my wife. I just wanted to let you know what I've been told."

Alexander lost the hopefulness in his eyes, but he still gave him a nod with a small smile. "Thank you, Cornelius. I hope the boys are alright."

Cornelius nodded his head before he pushed away from the desk. He adjusted the strap of his bag. "They are smart boys, Alexander. I'm sure they are just fine. The thing I'm not sure of is where they are currently or what the hell they were thinking." He adjusted his glasses on his nose. "But I do know the second I see Wilbur he will be in more trouble than he could ever imagine." He grumbled more to himself than to Alexander.

"I've never really had a reason to punish Caleb before. He's always been such a good kid, so I don't understand his state of thinking." Alexander spoke allowed, but Cornelius thought it was supposed to only be in his head.

"We'll understand more when they finally return home." Cornelius dug for his keys in the deep pocket of his lab coat. "I'm headed off, Alexander. Have a good night."

Cornelius turned his body to head out the front doors, but before he even got halfway across the way a form burst through the doors. The form was short and clearly out of breath from the loud pants they made. Cornelius stopped mid-step the moment he heard the sound of the doors. When they skidded to a stop a few feet from him, Cornelius could see who it was. Their dirty blond hair wild, oily and clothing wrinkled with dirt stains.

It was Caleb.

Cornelius went to speak but the boy hunched over to support himself on his knees raised a hand to silence him. Cornelius pressed his lips together to keep his voice locked in his throat. Alexander made his way over to Cornelius' side and he saw the second his eyes landed on the boy he was surprised. Alexander shouted his son's name with happiness.

"Caleb?!"

The boy held up his palm once more. "One…minute." His voice panted from the lack of air entering his body. The boy took a few deep breaths before he finally straightened up. Cornelius watched the boy look at both him and Alexander with wide, fear struck, green eyes. "I know you might have a few questions for me about where I have been and what I have been doing, but all of that is unimportant right now. I know that you are angry at me, dad, and I ask that you hold that anger in for just a few moments more."

Alexander stepped up closer to the boy. "Unimportant? I would say that the questions have top priority over anything and everything else you have to say, Caleb."

Caleb waved his arm before him while he spoke. His voice hurried and panicked. "Actually, what I must tell Mr. Robinson here is far more important than anything you wish to do or say, dad. You can question, yell, and ground me later, but Mr. Robinson," Caleb turned his attention to him, "you really need to go after Wilbur."

Cornelius looked at him with raised brows and held his hand out to motion Caleb to slow down his hurried voice. "Whoa, whoa, calm down, son." Cornelius saw him take a deep breath in then a loud sigh. "Now, what is this about Wilbur?"

Caleb grabbed onto his lab coat with both hands from desperation. "Wilbur and I arrived back in the city not that long ago. We took a monorail to get here, and when we were at the station I found the monorail that would take us to his house. Not much to my surprise, he found a loophole in the deal we had made. Now, Wilbur has taken off to get himself into more trouble than he thinks."

Alexander grabbed Caleb's shoulder. "What do you mean, Caleb?"

"What is Wilbur getting himself into?" Cornelius pressed.

Caleb looked from Cornelius to his father that stood beside him. His scared gaze locked with Cornelius'. "Wilbur thinks he figured out where Everett is keeping his mom." Cornelius heard a gasp, but he wasn't sure if it had come from his own mouth. "He refused to go to the police station and give them the information we found and search the location because he thinks they are more focused on pinning the blame to you, Mr. Robinson. He's so stubborn and impulsive, I couldn't stop him. I lost him in the crowd. He thinks he has to be the one to bring her home and that is exactly what he is off doing now."

Cornelius widened his eyes from the fear that struck his heart. "Wilbur's going after Everett?!" His hands reached for each of Caleb's arms. "Did he tell you where he was going?"

Caleb's head nodded. "The old Todayland. Old Town." He said.

Cornelius let the boy go and raced out of the building faster than he thought possible. His fingers fumbled with his keys while he raced for his car. When he finally got it unlocked, he climbed in quickly and got it started. Cornelius held the wheel with one hand while the other dug around for his phone. The second he had it in hand, he pulled Wilbur's contact up. He pressed the phone to his ear after he pressed the call button. On the third ring, he heard his son's voice on the other end.

"Dad,"

"Wilbur! What the hell do you think you are doing?!" Cornelius shouted. His voice more fearful than angry. "Caleb came to the Industries and told me where you're going. I want you to stop and turn back around right this instant."

Wilbur was quiet for a few seconds before his voice came through. "I'm sorry dad. I can't do that."

"Why not? What are you thinking, son?" Cornelius asked. His hand on the wheel jerked.

"I'm thinking about mom. How much I want to find her." Wilbur whispered a shout.

Cornelius sighed. "I know, buddy. I know how much you want her home, I do as well, but you're just a kid. Tell me where you are, so I can pick you up."

"No." Wilbur said. "I'm gonna find her."

"Wilbur, you can't find her." Cornelius argued.

"I can, dad."

Cornelius sped the car up. "What makes you think you can, son?"

"Because," his voice went quiet and Cornelius was about to speak when his son beat him to it, the second he heard what his son said his breathing stopped, "I'm looking at her right now."

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 **Short, but oh well, haha. Review? I think yes you should.**


	56. Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty  
Wilbur

 _Old Town: Thursday, September 3rd, 2037_

 **H** is brown eyes couldn't tear themselves away from staring at the town when he got close enough to see it; no matter how hard he tried. He studied the old, brick buildings. Many of them crumbled to the ground in nothing but rubble. Others still stood but looked ready to fall at any time. There were barely any working street lamps, but enough to were Wilbur could see all the green moss that grew over the bricks. All the shattered glass windows. The cracks on, almost, every inch of the roads. The huge chunks of the street or sidewalk had sunk in and left deep holes. The town his parents once lived in was nothing more but a pile of rubble and ash.

Wilbur was surprised that the monorail actually stopped at, what used to be, the station. He climbed out with his bag on his shoulder. His fingers gripped the strap tightly. His feet shuffled along the small concrete platform. Ash covered the top of the platform that clouded up with each step he took. Wilbur looked around the area he could see from the lamps, but he found it creepy how it looked. He wondered if ghosts roamed the empty streets.

His body jumped when the monorail behind him hissed before it took off down the track. His hand flew to his heart to feel it beat hard behind his ribcage. Goosebumps covered his legs and his arms from the fright the monorail gave him. He watched as it disappeared in the darkness until he could no longer see it.

' _Well,'_ Wilbur had his bottom lip between his teeth, _'no turning back now. Couldn't even if I wanted to.'_ He turned his body back to face the deserted town. He bent his knee in and out as he stood at the edge of the town. _'I can't get the monorail to come back. I'm stuck here until I either find my mom or I call my dad.'_

With a deep breath in, Wilbur walked to the edge of the platform and climbed his way down. The stairs long gone. He landed flat on his feet with a puff of ash. His fingers gripped the strap to his bag before he moved his feet forward. The rubble beneath his shoes _crunched_ under his step. Every so often a street lamp would allow him to see things other than shadows, but most of the time he was surrounded in darkness. He just passed under the orange light of the broken street lamp and an old ice cream shop.

Wilbur didn't need a map to know where he was going. That reason was because he didn't know where he was actually going. He had never been to Old Town before, so he couldn't possibly know where the houses were built. Or which one his mother could be in. His mother could very well not even be in Old Town. His feet halted at that thought.

' _No. She has to be here. This is the only place close enough to Todayland, but far enough away that no one would see him or her.'_ Wilbur put his hand on his hip and the other grabbed his chin. _'But, where are the houses? I've seen nothing but shops and offices.'_ He looked around him.

Right next to him was a tall building with hardly any damage. A metal ladder hooked to the side that lead to the roof. An idea struck him. He rushed over to the ladder and jumped from the ground to try and grab it. After a few attempts, he huffed in irritation. He wasn't tall enough to reach it. He turned his head to look around the ally way. There had to be something he could stand on so he could reach the ladder. All Wilbur saw was an old dumpster and a broken bucket. Glass from the broken windows as well.

Wilbur dropped his bag to the ashy ground then made his way around the dumpster. He took a deep breath, pressed his shoulder into the metal along with his hand, and used his legs to push against it. The wheels on the rusted dumpster whined while it moved along the ground. He pushed as hard as he could. He had to stop twice before it was close enough to the ladder. Out of breath and tired, Wilbur grabbed his bag, slung it across his chest then pulled himself up onto the dumpster. The metal of the ladder was rusted and cold. He began to climb. His foot slipped once and his stomach filled with butterflies the higher he got, but Wilbur climbed until he made it over the edge of the roof. Gravel covered the entire roof. A small square, brick structure stood in the middle with an opened door. The top hinge broken, so the door hung off a bit.

His feet hesitantly moved him further onto the roof, so he could get a look at the town from a higher view point. When he reached the opposite end, Wilbur's mouth fell open slightly at the sight he was met with.

The town his parents grew up in was nothing. Buildings broken. Trees dead. Ash everywhere. The name Old Town was a perfect fit. Ghost Town would have worked as well. The town was nothing like Wilbur had seen pictures of. Nothing like he imagined from the stories his mother told him. The town was dark and gray. No life.

"I can't believe a gas pipe did all this damage." Wilbur muttered to himself in disbelief.

He remembered that lesson in History class. How a gas pipe was cracked. Over time the pipe grew weaker and one day it just exploded. So many casualties. So much death that day. Wilbur counted himself lucky that none of his family lived in the town at the time. His mother and her family had moved a while ago before the dreadful day. His dad and his family had just left on vacation. But, what about all the people who had been there? How many of them did his parents know that were killed?

Wilbur hadn't noticed tears fell down his cheeks. He wiped them away quickly and took a breath. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand. The reason he came onto the roof. Why he came to the town. To find his mom. Not cry over something that happened before he was born. After a few calmed breaths, Wilbur leaned against the edge of the roof to look out in the town. He couldn't see much from the few lamps that still worked, but he refused to give up. A little way in the distance, Wilbur thought that he saw buildings that looked to be houses. They were surely small enough to be. With an idea of where to go, Wilbur climbed back down the building and set off down the sidewalk in the direction to get him to the area he saw.

Most of the walk he was surrounded by darkness which only made the town seem that creepier. With shaky hands, Wilbur worked his way around the town. His feet avoided the deep holes that pecked the sidewalk. Rounded large chunks of brick that had fallen from the buildings. Along the way, Wilbur had to climb over a large pile of bricks that once made up the corner of a building. Thin metal pipes in the pile poked out and caught his shirt every time. He made it over the top and skidded down the side. He grabbed his shirt to look it over, and found a hole that wasn't there before. He groaned to himself. One of his favorite shirts now ruined. With a roll of his eyes, he bent down to retie his shoe before he started to walk through the town again.

After a few more blocks of walking, Wilbur could see the edge of the actual town and the start of what looked like a neighborhood. Wilbur felt the rush of adrenaline pump through his body at the sight. His legs pushed him to move forward faster. His head looked around him to keep an eye out for anything that could trip him, but he suddenly stopped midstride. His stared with his mouth open.

Before him stood a building that looked almost untouched from the explosion. Though the windows had been smashed. The building he stood before was a clothing shop. The front door pushed opened a bit. The sign that hung from the archway above was what made him stop. In a swirl of gold letters was the name his mother was given. Francesca's. Green ivy leaves embordered the name of the shop. Even though it was faded from the years of neglect, he could still see it.

Wilbur could hardly believe that the shop his mom's mother owned still stood. Though it looked like a total mess, the shop still stood. That gave him a smile. Wilbur grabbed his bag and moved his legs to sprint. Seeing that shop, only made him want his mother that much more.

It wasn't long before Wilbur made it past the first several homes. Every one of them was fallen apart. Whether it was from broken windows to missing half the house. Wilbur looked left and right continuously as he walked in the middle of the street. Soon, he started to run out of homes, and he grew upset. None of them looked like someone was inside them. All were dark and empty. Abandoned. Wilbur sighed and kicked a large rock with his foot. He didn't feel better. His chest let out a loud, frustrated cry that echoed through the empty neighborhood. He still didn't feel better. Wilbur fell to the ground. His knees connected with the street and his arms wrapped around his torso.

He failed.

Wilbur knew he had failed to find his mother.

The old Todayland was a small town. Not too small, but small enough. The neighborhood for the town was wrapped all in one large area. Suddenly, Wilbur wondered how long he had been there. Must have been awhile because he got through the whole neighborhood, well not really through it all. Wilbur could see nothing but darkness, and he had kept an eye out for any light that wasn't a street lamp. He saw nothing.

He failed.

Wilbur lifted his head, with tears built in his eyes, to look around him. Everything was still dark. Feeling nothing but defeat, Wilbur pushed himself up from the street and headed back to the edge of town. His head watched his shoes step along the ashy street while he walked. He could hear nothing but the sound of his own footsteps against the street. The sound of his bag bounced off his hip. Even the rustle of all the scattered papers that littered the town.

After a bit, Wilbur thought that he should have entered the town by then. When he looked up with lowered brows, he found himself in an unknown part of the town. The houses around him were spread out further from each other, and they looked untouched by the gas pipe explosion. Of course, the ones closer to the town had broken windows and opened front doors, but nothing else. Which direction did he walk?

He slipped his thumb under the strap of his bag and ran it between his shoulder and the strap. His feet hesitantly pushed forward. His eyes looked all around him with caution. He had seen many horror movies in his life, and never once did he feel this afraid. The sound of a loud bang and a cat's cry, Wilbur nearly jumped from his own skin. He pushed his feet to sprint away from where the sounds came from. He came to a stop a little way from where he nearly had a heart attack with his head faced in that direction. His eyes looked for any sign of the animal following him and possibly attacking him, but he saw nothing and decided it was safe. He was safe.

A breathy gasp slipped past his lips when his brown eyes did a double take.

At the end of a long drive way, with several trees surrounding it on both sides, was a house that had several lights on. For a moment, Wilbur stood at the line that marked the street and driveway. His heart could be heard in his ears. His stomach felt like it had disappeared and replaced with butterflies. His feet frozen to the concrete.

' _Why are there lights on in that house?'_ Wilbur asked himself that dumb question. _'No. It-It can't be. No, my eyes are playing tricks on me. This is a joke.'_

He didn't know when, but his feet had begun to move him down the driveway; past the metal gate that had a large 'F' on it. The driveway curved down the way until it connected with the steps to the front porch. Leaves from the many trees covered most of the ground. Wilbur wasn't sure how wide the driveway really was. When he got closer to the house itself, Wilbur got a feeling that he had seen the house before. He wasn't sure where.

He slipped his bag from his shoulder and placed it against the trunk of the tree he hid behind. Easier to move quietly, Wilbur bent over to race across the way to the side of the house. He climbed over the white gate to the right of the house and pressed himself against the wall. Out of the two last windows he could see light pour out.

The loud ring of his phone caused the silence around him to be broken. Panicked, Wilbur quickly dug into his pocket to get it out and silence it. He saw his dad's contact picture flash on the screen. Split second decision, Wilbur answered the phone.

"Dad,"

"Wilbur!" His father shouted in his ear. He winced and pulled the phone away from his ear. "What the hell do you think you are doing?!" Wilbur placed the phone back to his ear to hear the fear in his father's voice.

Wilbur began to sneak along the side of the house. Toward the windows that had light shining through them while his dad continued to shout at him.

"Caleb came to the Industries and told me where you're going. I want you to stop and turn back around right this instant."

Wilbur bit down on his lip as he stopped just before the first lit window. "I'm sorry dad. I can't do that." He spoke as loud as he dared.

"Why not? What are you thinking, son?" His dad asked him.

Wilbur looked into the window from the corner. He saw the bathroom. The same bathroom he had seen his mother in. Her naked body pressed against that same shower wall. He removed his head when he didn't see anyone inside that room. He ducked.

"I'm thinking about mom. How much I want to find her." His whisper came out a bit louder than he wanted.

His legs moved him along the outside of the house. Closer to the second window.

He heard his dad sigh on the other end of the phone. "I know, buddy. I know how much you want her home, I do as well, but you're just a kid."

Wilbur lowered his brows at that statement. He looked into the window, but he was disappointed to find something blocked the view inside.

"Tell me where you are, so I can pick you up."

Wilbur rounded the house, and found a third window. "No." He made his way over to the window. "I'm gonna find her."

"Wilbur," his father sighed again, "you can't find her."

Wilbur looked through the edge of the window, and his eyes bugged from his head and his mouth hung open. "I can, dad." He managed to choke out.

"What makes you think you can, son?"

"Because," his voice went quiet from the sight he was watching, "I'm looking at her right now." Wilbur watched his mother.

Her body pressed into the mattress of the bed she laid on. A man, he guessed Everett, above her. His hands pushed the skirts of her dress up her body. She was struggling to fight him off her, he could tell. He watched Everett's hand travel over his mother's toned stomach. Lower and lower. He forced his body to slide down the house, so he couldn't watch what he was doing to his mother.

The whole time he didn't noticed his father was calling out his name. "Yes?" His body shook on the ground.

"Wilbur, what do you mean by that?" His father asked him. "Are you with her?"

Wilbur shook his head, but then he realized his father couldn't see. "No. She's inside a house. I saw through the window." Wilbur told him. "Dad, you need to get over here. He's hurting her. I'm in Old Town."

"Where in Old Town, Wilbur?" His father questioned. "There are hundreds of homes there."

Wilbur gripped the phone harder in his hand. He thought. What could he tell his dad that would help him find him?

' _The house has a fancy gate near the front of the drive way. I could say that?'_ Wilbur thought. _'But other homes here have that too. The gate had an_ 'F' _on it. But other gates might have that too. Think Wilbur. Think.'_ Flashes of pictures he had seen flew past his eyes and the sound of his mother's voice popped up as well.

His head shot up to look forward into the darkness of more trees. "Everett is keeping mom in the house she grew up in." Wilbur blurted out. He realized after he spoke that he interrupted his father mid-sentence, but he hadn't heard a word that was said.

"What? Are you sure about that Wilbur? Cause if you're-"

"Trust me, dad." He interrupted again. "I remember all the old photos mom used to show me. When she would tell me about her mom. I remember the house in the background in some of them. The one I'm at right now looks exactly like it. I'm positive."

The sound of his mother's scream made Wilbur drop his phone to the ground. His body looked at the window above him, and he got up enough to peek through. He saw Everett above her still, but his hand was under the waistband of his mom's panties. Her body looked tensed. Her eyes clenched shut. Wilbur ran from the window, his phone still on the ground, and moved along the back wall of the house. He soon came up to a pair of French doors. His fingers grabbed the handle and turned and pushed with all the strength he could muster. The door would not open. It was locked.

His heart raced a million miles, he searched around the ground. Even in the dark, which his eyes had adjusted to, he spotted a large rock. It was within his hand faster than he thought. His feet stepped him back up to the door and he threw the rock into the glass. There was only one long piece of glass, so when the rock went through, it made a large hole. After the shatter of the glass, Wilbur heard a crash from somewhere in the room. He used his foot to kick more of the glass away, so he could slip through. Once inside, Wilbur saw a large open room. Living and kitchen. The TV still on, but the volume must have been muted.

"What was that noise?"

Wilbur turned his head to the direction he heard the voice come from. He had just broken into the home where Everett was keeping his mother. He was now in the lion's den with no weapon to protect himself. He heard a loud scream followed by a grunt and a _thud_. The sound of footsteps got louder to his ears.

' _What have I gotten myself into?!'_

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 **And...  
I will leave it there. Maw haha. Review? I really think you should.  
See you next chapter!  
**


	57. Chapter Forty-One

_Has it really been over a month since I updated? I really doesn't feel that way. I am so sorry to keep you all waiting, but here is the next chapter! Hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it._

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Chapter Forty-One  
Franny

 _Old Town: Thursday, September 3rd, 2037_

 **T** he harsh stare of his gray eyes made her body shake more than it did from his offensive touch against her. Every limb shook with tensed muscles until her foot pressed into the bedspread when a cramp spread through the bottom of her left foot. Her heart thumped behind her ribcage in an uneven beat while it pumped fear through her veins instead of blood. She focused her sight and mind on Everett as he continued to hover over her nearly naked body. She felt his hand still under the waistband of her panties, his cold finger held still between her legs, and the rough movement stopped. Her eyes watched him carefully, waited for any sudden movement he would make, when he finally did move it was quick. The fast motions that took place within the next five seconds didn't register in her mind until she was on the floor.

His body had shot up so his back was straightened. The finger that had been moving harshly inside her slipped out, but his hand remained in between her legs; beneath her panties. His head had snapped to look at the opened bedroom door. Franny had set to action much faster than she thought. No longer held down by his body weight, Franny could move her legs better. They were no longer pinned to the bed, so she took the chance while he was distracted. Her left leg bent at the knee in one swift motion. The nonexistent fat on her body had made her attack more successful. The bone in her knee made the connection more painful between Everett's legs. His face had twisted in pain and the loud scream he let out made her ears ring. Suddenly, Franny was freed from his touch. His body had disappeared from above her and fell onto the mattress in a fetal position. The jump her body got from his connection to the mattress just made it easier for her to swing herself off the edge. Her legs and arms flapped around while she fell off the bed until her back collided with the plush carpet.

A pain filled groan slipped past her chapped lips while she slowly rolled onto her side. The ache that already coursed through her body grew in scale after her collision with the floor. The groan of pain dragged out from the movement she forced upon herself. Her arms shook, but she still used them to push her body up until she was on her knees. Her legs began to wobble once the weight was put on her knees. Pressure grew in her left knee from using it to attack Everett.

"Franny," her head snapped up when her name was forced through compressed teeth, "you will regret that."

Franny used her shaky arms and wobblily legs to scramble up from the floor. Her body sprinted to the opened door, arm wrapped across her stomach so her hand could grip her bruised ribs, and stumbled past the doorframe; her shoulder knocked into the wood on her way out. She tripped over her own rushed feet down the hall. Her free hand ran along the smooth wall to help aid her in balance. She made it near the end of the hall rather quickly, but once she neared the end her feet tripped over themselves. Her hand shot out to brace herself against the wall. Her breathing came out in harsh pants from the adrenaline that coursed under her skin. Her head lifted from staring at her feet to continue her rushed exit, but the moment her eyes connected with a pair of similar brown eyes, she could no longer move a muscle.

For the longest moment, Franny stood there, body supported against the wall with a look of utter disbelief. Her mouth fell open slightly to allow herself to breath. Her eyes large. She let out a shaky breath that was supposed to be a gasp of surprise, but only came out as a silent exhale of air.

A tall, skinny form stood before her near the shattered French door. Their eyes nearly as wide as her own. Obvious deep purple bags painted the skin under their eyes. Fear painted the orbs before she saw it disappear into something else. Love and over whelmed happiness. Franny saw the smile that pulled at their lips until their white teeth poked from behind them. Franny took in another breath. Their shirt covered in smudged dirt, a noticeable hole near the seam, and their jeans covered with patches of dirt just like the shirt. Dark hair frizzed and wild, so unlike its normal neat style. Franny removed herself from the wall to step into the living room; closer to the form before her.

"Wilbur?" Her voice sounded unfamiliar to her. Shaky to form the single word, while she sounded disbelieved.

She watched his arms lift like he wanted to hug her, but they stopped shortly above his hips. "Mom." She almost didn't hear his whispered word.

Franny's hand shot out toward him slowly. Her mind tried to convince her that he wasn't there. That her son was just an illusion of her exhausted brain and he couldn't possibly be standing before her then. The rational portion of her brain told her that when her hand touched him it would simply go through him. Her fingers hesitated just before his cheek. Her teeth locked her lip between them as her eyes searched within her son's as his did the same. When she released her lip, her fingers brushed over his dirty cheek. They didn't stop until her palm rested against the warmth of her son's skin. A smile pulled at her lips when she realized Wilbur was real, he was truly there with her. He stood before her.

"Wilbur." The single word left her lips before a sob caught in her throat.

His head nodded slowly. His hand reached to cover hers on his cheek. "Yeah, mom," his eyes welded with tears, "it's me."

In one graceful, fluid motion, Franny had her arms wrapped around her son's tiny but tall body. No hesitation. No second thoughts. One hand slipped to the back of his head where her fingers laced into his oily hair. The other wrapped around his back to grasp a fist full of his shirt. She used both her hands to press her son into her chest to hold him as close as she humanly could. She felt Wilbur's skinny, chicken arms wrap around her shoulders to pull her or himself as closely as he could; just as she was doing with him. She soon found herself on her knees, Wilbur's body dragged down with her, with her right cheek pressed onto the top of his head. Her eyes closed with the build of tears. Her chest filled with a deep breath of Wilbur's smell. A chocked sob of overwhelmed joy from having her son back in her arms slipped from her mouth. She could protect him now that he was securely wrapped within her shaken arms. Tears slipped past her locked lashes in silent streams.

For just a moment, Franny forgot where she was. Her mind only focused on her son and the fact he was finally there with her. There was no danger. There was no threat over her family. As quickly as the thoughts of safety came, they suddenly disappeared. Her body snapped back to the horrible reality that surrounded her and she pulled her son out of her chest. Her shaken arms held him at arm's length while she looked at his dirty face. Her happiness was quickly replaced with worry and anger.

"Wilbur," her voice sounded cracked and fearful, "what are you doing here?!" One of her hands harshly wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"I came here to find you. To bring you home."

Franny moved her palms to both his dirty, wet cheeks to hold his eyes with her own. "You shouldn't be here, Wilbur. It's too dangerous for you to be-" Her voice was cut off by a scream forced from her throat.

Her body was jerked up from her son, off the floor, and a few steps away from Wilbur, all by a hand wrapped around her throat. Her eyes closed from the pain. Her fingers reached up to grab ahold of the arm pressed between her breasts. Her throat was released quickly, but her freedom was short lived. The hand moved to her shoulder and gripped harshly to shove her back into a hard chest. Her breath was stolen from her lips upon the contact. Something cold and hard pressed into her temple. Her eyes opened when she heard her son whimper on the floor. She watched him rise from his knees with his arms held out before him. His eyes spoke of fear, but he didn't move his feet from the spot they glued themselves to.

"Well, well," Everett's slurred voice spoke near her ear, "isn't this a surprise twist of events."

Franny saw Wilbur's eyes look away from her own to look past her shoulder. She knew that he was looking into the eyes of the man who held her body tightly to his own. Wilbur, the longer she studied his body language, looked hesitant to do anything. Speak. Move. Even breath.

Everett's fingers dug into the fabric of her dress before he shifted her body more into in the side of his body instead of in front of it. Franny lifted herself onto her toes to keep the bone in his forearm from being pressed into her throat. Whatever was pressed against her tempt pushed harder against the side of her head.

"When I heard the noise of the glass shattering I knew someone was here, but I had hoped it was that bastard Cornelius. That he finally figured it out. That he finally arrived, but instead I am disappointed to find the kid in his place."

Wilbur's brows lowered slightly before he dared to speak. "I'm not a kid." Wilbur's voice was almost too low for either of them to hear him.

Franny kept her eyes on her son. She saw nothing else in that room, but him. _'Look at me.'_ She begged him within her head like he would hear it, but his eyes never tore away from Everett's. The look in her eyes pleaded with him to run. To turn himself back toward the broken French door and get far from that place, but her son didn't listen to her. He remained locked with Everett's eyes. The object that had been pressed into the side of her head was replaced with a chill of cold air.

Franny saw two things happen in that moment.

The unknown object that had been pressed into the side of her head was then turned to point at her son. The flash of the silver metal made her eye larger from realizing what it was. A gun.

Wilbur's hands flew out before him like someone did when they had a gun pointed to their chest. His eyes, if possible, grew larger than they had already been.

Franny felt her heart hammer against her chest and she was positive that Everett could feel it against his arm that was wrapped across her torso. The arm that pinned her body against his. The maternal drive filled her stomach the second she saw her son was in danger. Her eyes flew back and forth from her son to the silver gun that was pointed to his body. Her fingers that were wrapped around his forearm dug further into his skin from the rush of fear that coursed through her.

"How did _you_ find out where I was?" Everett's voice sounded dangerous.

Franny tried to take a step towards her son, but her body remained trapped against Everett's. "Wilbur, get out of here." Her voice begged.

She felt Everett's arm tighten across her chest. "Keep your mouth quiet. I much prefer it to be used for other matters." He hissed in her ear. "Now tell me, kid, how did you find me?"

Wilbur took a deep breath in by the look of his chest expanded out. "That," she saw Wilbur swallow hesitantly, "that is an excellent question."

The flash of the metal caught her eye when Everett adjusted the gun in his out stretched hand. "Don't play games with me, kid. Tell me how you managed to find out where I was keeping your mother."

Wilbur continued to hold his hands out before him, even when his body jerked back from the movement of the gun. His eyes, finally, moved back to look at her and Franny took in a silent breath. She saw how scared Wilbur was and that only drove her maternal drive into a higher gear.

"It honestly wasn't hard to put the pieces together after I finally figured out your puzzle." Wilbur began to explain with slow, steady breaths. "At first it seemed hopeless when I went back to Moorestown to speak with the people who saw her that weekend, but with the help of Caleb, we managed to crack the code piece by piece until they fit perfectly."

"Wilbur," Franny was cut off by the increase of pressure against her torso.

"Quiet."

Wilbur looked back to Everett. "I didn't know where in this town you were keeping my mother, but I found you by sheer luck when I was about to give up. And, I'm not the only one who knows where you are now." Wilbur gave a smirk.

Franny felt Everett's fingers dig deep into her shoulder and her bone protested the increased pressure. She bit down on her lip to keep herself from yelping in pain. Everett took steps toward her son. Her feet dragged against the carpet before her brain could tell them to step with his strides. She wiggled her body within his arm the whole time he made his way closer to her son. Her brown, panicked eyes watched the gun get closer to Wilbur's chest. Wilbur stumbled back until he fell to the carpet with more fear in his eyes than Franny ever thought he could have. One of his arms propped his body up while the other held out before him in an attempt to shield himself. Everett stopped a few feet from over Wilbur, gun pointed directly to his chest, and hard breaths from his mouth.

"Do you find this funny, kid, huh? Are you trying to test my patience with your lies?" Everett asked him with a surprisingly calm voice. "Do you think I am above shooting kids? I will not hesitate to pull this trigger in front of your mother." Franny watched his thumb flick the safety off the gun and his finger press over the trigger. "In fact, I will have her watch as the life leaves your body." His finger coiled tighter.

"No!" Franny kicked her legs in the air to attempt freedom. Her arm jerked upward so her fingers could reach toward the gun and knock it away from her son's direction. Franny wanted nothing more than for that weapon to be pointed at her. "No!"

Everett snapped his attention back to her. His arm pulled her body more into his side so her fingers grew in distance from the weapon she desperately wanted to get. His hard eyes stared at her determined, yet frightened, ones. Her body visibly relaxed when the weapon was no longer pointed to her son, but it tensed up again the moment it headed in her direction. She watched with widened eyes as it lifted passed his head. Her mind raced with questions about what he was doing, but her mind stopped when the gun swung downward. The barrel of the metal weapon slammed against the side of her forehead; hard. Her head was forced to the side from the sudden, unpredicted, impact. She wasn't sure if the scream she heard was from her own mouth or from her son's, but she didn't get to focus long enough to figure it out. Her body was suddenly flung away from Everett's. Her two feet refused to steady her, so she tumbled to the floor. Her body crashed against one of the end tables, the glass shattering into different pieces, and her body finally connected with the carpet. Somewhere in the process, Franny banged her forehead against the table, for the throb grew in pressure.

She tried to pick herself up from the carpet, but the moment she lifted her head the world spun around her and her stomach felt like a storm that threatened to heave. Her body fell back to the carpet covered in shards of glass. She felt tired. The sleepy feeling only grew the longer she laid there on her stomach. Hands flat on either side of her head, she flexed her fingers. The skirts of her dress tangled within her legs. Sticky, warm liquid tickled across her forehead to drip in the carpet beneath her. Franny blinked a few times to try and get herself out of the state of shock. She wanted to lock her eyes on her son. To protect him.

When her sight finally cleared enough for her to focus on solid figures, she instantly panicked out of her dazed state. Everett towered above her battered body, gun pointed to her back, and Wilbur stood a few paces away; arms held out in a way of begging. Her eyes noticed his eyes held fear, but it wasn't fear for himself, no, it was fear for her. She saw Wilbur was terrified at how the situation turned. The way he was looking back and forth from her to Everett made that clear to her; even if nothing else was.

"Maybe, I should just have a final round of fun with your mother and have you watch everything I do to her. Then after I shot her and leave you here with her dead body, and Cornelius finally arrives, you can tell him I was the last man to give her such pleasure before I left her for him to find." Everett's voice made Franny's ears ring and her head throb. She whimpered from the threat he spoke to her son.

' _Please, no, don't make him watch that.'_ She begged within her mind.

"I think that will cause him great pain. Take away his love just before he could get to her." She heard a noise from the weapon that pointed to her back. Her eyes clenched shut to wait for the ear-splitting noise of a fired weapon and the pain that would surely follow.

"What would be the point of that?" Her eyes opened at the sound of Wilbur's desperate voice. "What satisfaction would that give you? You want to cause my dad pain, pain that he caused you, but would killing my mom and leaving really give you the satisfaction you crave?" Wilbur quickly asked. Franny moved her spinning eyes to glance at her son. "You want to see the pain on his face. You want to see the torment of my father that will satisfy the crave you have deep inside. You won't get that if you just leave her dead body here and take off."

Franny knew Wilbur was trying to stall for time. Create a prolong, so Cornelius could reach them in time before Everett had a chance to hurt either of them, and Franny was proud of the bravery her son was showing before Everett.

She hadn't noticed her eyelids had started to fall over her eyes until they nearly connected. She forced the heavy lids to open again, because she feared that if they were to close she would not wake up again. She focused them on Everett the best she could from the position she laid in on the carpet. He had his head down with his eyes on her.

"I do." The slur in his voice present one more. "I do want to witness his pain. I want to hear him beg for me to spare her life. I want to see his body crumple in despair when I take her away from him forever. To watch the love his life fade before his very eyes. But why stop there?" Franny whimpered again when she felt his heavy boot press against her back, but more from the shocked pain from the pressure against her bruised ribs. "With the extra time I would gain from not killing her until he is standing in this room, I can have more time to enjoy her one last time. Then have him beg for her life, but only to watch him crumble when I kill her. But there will be a bonus prize to my satisfaction." Franny watched his fuzzed figure turn his head to Wilbur. "I'll make him watch you die as well. Take his family away from him."

Franny was suddenly shoved onto her back by Everett's foot. Her ribs protested from the weight of his boot. A grunted cry slipped through her throat. Everett pressed a hand on her shoulder to hold her body down to the carpet. Her eyes focused on his eyes that held an evil she never thought a human could have inside them. He lowered himself down to his knee, so he was closer to her body.

"If you move or look away," she felt the gun press under her jaw to tilt her head back slightly, "I will shoot her brains from her skull and cover you in her blood."

Franny heard a muffled scream enter her ears but it sounded so distant, and she knew it had come from Wilbur. Her eyes stared blankly at the ceiling as time seemed to move slower than her heart pumped blood. She could hear each beat clear as she could a music note. All the other noises she heard where so distant. Grunts sounded echoed. Voices muffled to nothing but gibber. Her body laid limply on the ground as she felt Everett get above her. His face could be seen in her vision, but she locked her focus on the ceiling. The gun that was pressed under her jaw was no longer present, but she had no idea where it went.

The next instant she felt his hands place on her shoulders, and she turned her face to find Wilbur. She saw him on his knees with a face full of terror and hopelessness as he watched her. She gave Wilbur a soft eyed look and a tiny smile of reassurance. Even in her current state, Franny wanted to protect him, let him know that everything would be okay even though it was far from it. She saw the tear fall from his eye to drip off his cheek before the others followed. Her mouth moved to form the words she couldn't speak. _'I'm sorry. I love you.'_

She turned her head to look at the ceiling again. Her eyes closed.

Franny felt his hands travel down the length of her arms with painfully slow movements and his face in her neck. His lips coated her skin with his wet kisses and she wished he would just use her, get it over with, but he seemed to want to take his time with her. She whimpered when his teeth nicked her neck which caused her body to jerk under him. It seemed to please him because he smiled in her neck. His hands traveled back up her arms and across her collar bones until they traveled down her chest. Her body jerked again when his palm wrapped around one of her breast. His hand gave it a squeeze. His other hand continued to travel down her chest to her waist then stopped at her hip.

Franny wanted to crawl out of her own skin. _'Come on! Move, damn it!'_ But her body remained limp beneath him. She felt the tears build under her closed lids. She knew this would be worse than the first time or the second because her son, Wilbur, was threatened to watch this man touch her.

His hand that held her hip began to move down the outside of her thigh. His fingers curled into the skirts and her skin to bend her leg at the knee. A louder whimper forced its way past her lips when his hand slipped to the inside of her thigh. Inch by inch his fingers moved closer to the flesh between her legs. Her stomach wanted to flip on itself, but she forced it to stay down with deep breaths. He must have mistaken it for breaths of pleasure because his lips moved to her ear. His fingers touched her on the outside of her panties which caused her to jerk once more.

"Relax." He whispered. "Enjoy every second, my dear."

His fingers trailed up to her stomach. Her skin covered itself in goosebumps from the cold feeling his touch gave her. The anticipation of knowing what was to come next made her turn her cheek into the carpet. Her hands fisted at her sides and she gasped. Everett's fingers were once again under her panties to allow his rough fingers to touch her between her legs.

She heard him chuckle in her ear quietly, but loud enough for not only her but also Wilbur to hear. "Mmm, I bet your husband never touches you like I can. Never gets you to make noises like that."

Franny curled her palms and snapped her eyes opened to stare at the ceiling with anger. Her arm lifted from the carpet and she sent her fisted hand into the side of his body. Franny heard the painful grunt his body forced from his mouth. She shoved his body to the side so he rolled off her. With new found strength, Franny forced her back from the floor and she looked at Wilbur immediately. He stared at her. She scrambled across the floor to wrap him in her arms. She pressed his head into her chest and shushed him. He sobbed into her dress, but she only rocked him to calm him.

"Are you alright, Wilbur?"

He didn't speak words to answer her, he simply nodded his head to provide the answer. She relaxed her body from the answer before she pulled both herself and Wilbur up from the floor. Both Franny and Wilbur turned to look at the unmoved body of Everett. Franny spotted the large shard of glass that was plunged into his side. The shard of glass that she had grabbed and sunk into him.

"Is he dead?" Wilbur asked her in a voice that was stronger than she thought to be.

She placed her hands on his shoulders. "I don't know." She began to push him in the direction of the broken French door. "But I have no desire to stick around and find out. Come on, Wilbur, we need to leave. Before he wakes, _if_ he wakes."

Wilbur climbed through the broken door first, her hand didn't leave his shoulder blade even as she climbed through right after him. Wilbur made quick steps to lead them around the house. He briefly stopped to grab his phone that he had dropped before he grabbed her hand to pull her around the side of the house and to the front. Franny tightened her grip around her son's hand and covered it with her other.

Her body felt so many things at once that she felt overwhelmed. Her heart swelled with happiness, joy, relief, comfort, and overall fortunate at having her son back with her. The further they got from the house the more the feelings grew around her heart. The only thing that would make her feel complete was to have her husband's arms around her in a loving and protective embrace. With each step she took, she knew she was getting closer to having it.

She suddenly halted her steps which caused Wilbur to stop as well. He looked back at her to question, but he never got the chance to utter a word, for she pulled him into her body. Her arms wrapped around his skinny body. One arm wrapped around his shoulder blades and her other on the back of his head. Franny felt his arms immediately grip around her back. The tears finally slipped down her cheeks. Both Franny and her son stood there, each in the others embrace, finally feeling like she was close to home again. Wilbur's arms tightened around her torso and a forced cry escaped her. His arms quickly released her.

"Sorry, so sorry, mom." Wilbur quickly stuttered out.

Franny wrapped her hand around her ached ribs to control the pain. She used her other hands to hold Wilbur's chin to have him look at her. She gave her son a smile of reassurance. "It's okay. I'm alright." Her thumb brushed away the wet streaks and dirt from his cheek. "Come on, Wilbur, let's go see if we can spot your father." She placed her hand on his back to get them moving again, but she faltered before she could take the next step.

Her eyes locked with a pair eyes she could never mistake for another. She saw him stand there in the middle of the driveway near the opened gate. His eyes wide from disbelief and glasses near the tip of his nose. His hair in a crazy disarray from stress and fingers run through one to many times. His posture slightly off and one leg more forward than the other.

"Dad!" Wilbur's voice cut through the silence that surrounded them.

Franny watched her son take off down the driveway to fling his arms around the neck of his father. The whole time, Franny saw his eyes never removed from her, even when Wilbur had his arms around him. She released the breath she hadn't realized she held before she lifted her lips into a smile. She saw him finally move. He wrapped his arms around his son briefly before they broke apart. She watched Wilbur move to stand beside his father, but neither her nor Cornelius moved and inch. Wilbur looked from both her and Cornelius after a few moments.

"It's real, mom." Franny snapped her eyes to her son. "He is really here. We are here."

Her eyes went back to Cornelius' and a second after her legs began to move. Her hand still held her painful ribs while she moved herself closer to him. She hadn't realized that her feet picked up into a run until both her arms wrapped around his neck. His arms were around her faster than hers had gotten around him. Cornelius pulled her battered body as close to him as he possible could get her it seemed. Her fingers laced into his hair at the nap of his neck and she broke down into a sob.

She heard him quiet her with his shushes and the rub of his hand along her back. "I'm here now, darling. Everything will be alright." His words only made her sob more. "I've got you, my love." His lips pressed a kiss into her hair. "I love you. It's over. It's all over."

Franny pulled herself away from him enough so she could look into his eyes. Tears still spilled over her cheeks, but she could see him clearly. His blue eyes looked back into her own. Relief was the strongest emotion that radiated off him. Her fingers gripped the back of his neck tighter and she knew he was real.

"Cornelius."

He gave her a breathy smile. "Franny." He pulled her up to her toes to bring her lips to his.

Franny closed her eyes when her lips were just inches away from his, but just before she could feel them against hers a forced gasp pushed from her lungs. Her movement stopped and her body tensed. Her breathing became harsh and ragged. Each breath had to be forced from her chest.

"Franny?" Cornelius asked with confusion. "What's wrong?"

Franny lowered her brows from the uncomfortable feeling that seemed to move over her skin. "I don't, I don't feel so good."

Cornelius lowered his brows from concern. "What is it?"

Her knees suddenly gave away from under her and Franny started to tumble down toward the ground. She felt Cornelius tighten his arms around her and adjusted his grip so he could keep her up.

"Mom?"

"Franny, what is it?" Cornelius started to fuzz over before her eyes. "What wrong?" Cornelius adjusted her body in his arms until he lifted a hand from her back. "What is-" His sentence stopped and she saw him looking at his palm with horror.

"Cornelius?" Her voice was weaker.

His eyes shot back to her. "It's alright. You're alright."

Franny suddenly felt colder than a few moments ago. Her eyes heavier which made it harder for her to keep them opened.

"Now you will know the pain I felt." Franny heard the voice of Everett somewhere near her, but her body was too weak to even flinch a finger. "And now, you will watch her die."

"No." Cornelius turned his attention back to her. "No, no, no, no! Franny!" His voice was frantic but it only grew quieter. "Franny, please, hold on."

Franny felt her body lower to the concrete and watched Cornelius move his hands to press against her ribs. Her bruised ribs. She felt the unbelievable pain jolt her body awake. She tried to move so his hands would release her, but he only pressed down harder.

"Darling, I know it hurts, but I have to apply the pressure to slow the bleeding." His voice was panicked and his breathing hard. "Just keep your eyes open for me. Focus on me."

But Franny couldn't. Her eyes fluttered closed slowly. Her world slowly disappeared until the last thing she heard was the desperate voice of her husband.

" _Franny, please, don't leave me!"_


	58. Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Two  
Cornelius

 _Todayland: Thursday, September 3rd, 2037_

 **H** is body sat there, as though he was in a trace he couldn't break free from. His shoulders sagged from the heavy weight that pushed them down. His back hunched over to allow his elbows to press into his knees. His fingers were locked together and pressed to his mouth. His lips tucked inward to make them seem thinner than normal. His eyes stared at the wall across from him to study the plain white paint that coated it. He was aware of other's presence in the room with him, his son's, his parents, but for the life of him, Cornelius could not wrench his eyes away from the wall.

The image kept repeating like a record on repeat, but it was forever stuck and no hope of fixing. He could see it as clearly as if it was happening at that moment. Everything was vibrant in his mind, which only made the pain that much harder to bare.

The sight of his wife collapsing within his arms. The warm liquid his hand had brushed over when he tried to get a better grip on her body. The sight of her blood on his palm was the most vivid image his brain kept replaying. He was so confused by it at first. He didn't understand how she could have been fine one minute in his arms than be bleeding the next until he saw the gun Everett had held out in their direction. He had shot his wife, and now Franny was somewhere in that hospital fighting for her life while he was stuck in that waiting lobby; waiting.

' _How could I have let this happen? I should have been more focused on getting her away from that house than holding her to me.'_ Cornelius let his brain beat him up. Allowed it to make him feel worse because he deserved it. _'I should have been paying attention more clearly. Why didn't I notice him?!'_

Cornelius, finally, could remove his gaze from the wall he had been staring at for the past thirty minutes. He snapped his eyes closed to try and dull the pain he felt, but it did nothing but allow his brain to swim. It made him feel worse about himself, but he kept his eyes closed. The splitting noise of a gunshot, the one he didn't hear fire until after the shock wore off, made his ears ring as if he was hearing it all over again.

"Mr. Robinson?" The sound of the female voice was what allowed him to open his eyes and finally move his stiff body.

His head snapped to the door where the source of the voice had come from and there in the doorway was a doctor. His body flew up from the chair to allow him to walk over to the short female. Her red hair chopped and parted in the middle that stopped at the collar of her lab coat. Light blue scrubs notified him that she was not a surgeon.

Cornelius met her just beyond the door she came through and the lobby desk. "Yeah." His voice raw from the screaming, but strong enough to allow the fearful tone to be known. "How is she?"

' _Please, don't say she is dead. Tell me anything but that.'_

"Your wife's condition is critical." Her tone of voice was the opposite of his own. She seemed calm and firm, which he knew she had to be so she wouldn't scare waiting family members of their loved one's status. "We have our trauma team working on her."

' _She didn't say dead, but she also didn't say okay.'_

He cleared his throat. "Can I see her?" His voice still cracked.

"As _soon_ as we've gotten her stable." The doctor answered much to quickly for his liking.

"She's not stable?!" Cornelius' voice rose in panic and he was afraid he might have an anxiety attack right in the middle of the lobby. He watched as the female's face tried not to show emotions of worry, but he knew what she was about to say next was not good.

"Her lung collapsed." Cornelius felt his throat tighten. Somewhere behind him he heard a muffled cry, but he didn't turn to see who had made it. "She lost a lot of blood."

"Is she gonna be okay?"

Cornelius didn't need to turn his head to know who asked that question. He would know the sound of his son's voice, no matter how high pitched or scratched it was. His heart broken a little bit more from the pain his son was going through. He had just gotten his mother back. Finally, could hold her again. To speak to her. Only to have her ripped away from him once more.

"I assure you, Mr. Robinson, we're doing everything that we can." She tried to make her voice reassuring to ease the tautness that filled every inch of that room.

Cornelius heaved a heavy sigh to try and control his ragged emotions. He forced himself to look away from the female doctor who only delivered news that pushed him more on edge that pull him away from the ledge.

"As _soon_ as she's stable, we'll bring you back."

He didn't see her leave, but he heard the door open to allow her to disappear to the E.R. again. His hands went straight for his face to rub down from his forehead to his chin; which he grabbed with a firm grip. He was a time-bomb ready to blow at any second. He wanted to explode. He _needed_ to explode, but he couldn't do that right then. He knew that. His son, Wilbur, needed him to be strong. To be the glue and hold him together, but, who was going to hold him together? To keep him from falling apart like the world was around him?

"I did this."

All three sets of eyes locked on the smallest figure in the room. Wilbur looked completely broken. His eyes held more sadness than even Cornelius had inside himself. His son, once so strong and held himself high, looked small and helpless standing before him. Cornelius looked at his son with disbelief at how he could pin the blame to himself.

"I should have listened to you, dad." Wilbur looked him in the eyes with tears on the brim of spilling. "I should have just waited for you to get there, waited for the police, instead of going into the house." His son could barely get his words out because he was on the edge of sobbing. "None of this would have happened if I had done as you asked." He broke the dam.

Cornelius couldn't move. He could only stare at his son with utter disbelief.

His mother, Lucille, who also had tears running down her face, stepped up to Wilbur and wrapped her arm across his chest to pull his body away to find a chair. "Come on, Wilbur. Let's give your dad some space, okay?" Lucille looked to him with an understanding look. She knew what was happening inside himself. She saw he was fighting a battle and he was losing. "We need to allow everything to sink in, sweetie." She pulled Wilbur away from him and to a chair on the far wall.

Cornelius watched him willingly move across the room. His body tucked into the side of Lucille's, and just before he went to sit, Wilbur turned his head to look back at him. He still watched him with a look of shock. Wilbur's attention was pulled away from Cornelius when Lucille began to speak quietly to him. His father, Bud, clapped a firm hand on his shoulder to knock him loose from the trance he had found himself in again. His father squeezed his shoulder as tightly as he could to offer any form of comfort. Cornelius looked over to his father and only received a single nod of his head. He didn't need words spoken to know that was Bud's okay for Cornelius to break down. To let him know it was okay to allow his emotions to escape the confined box and roam free.

But the question was, could he?

Bud patted his shoulder a few times before he left him to go over to Lucille and Wilbur.

Cornelius stood there before the front desk with his mind in a race.

* * *

 _Todayland: Friday, September 4th, 2037_

 **H** e was numb.

Utterly and completely numb as his body sat in the same position it had early before the female doctor came to deliver an update of his Franny, his wife. He could no longer hear the whispered voices of his family because they fell silent long ago. The only sounds he heard was the ring of the lobby phone, the scribble of a pen, and the constant tick of the wall clock. The sounds were driving him to the edge of insane.

He wanted an update. He needed an update on his wife, or he swore he would go on a rampage to find her himself. He didn't care if he had to go through every nurse, doctor, or security guard to find her. He wanted to see her face. To hold her hand. Or even just see her from a distance. All he wanted was her. His fingers scraped through his hair with a deep sigh.

"She's stable."

The voice surprised him.

He hadn't heard the door open, nor had he heard her footsteps come to him. So, when he heard the familiar female voice, his head snapped to her direction and he jumped from the chair. His body stood before the doctors, and he was joined by his other family members before she could start her next sentence.

"We need to get her up to imaging but you can come see her briefly."

Apart of Cornelius seemed to relax, a very tiny part, but it allowed him to breath just a bit easier.

"Only the significant other right now, though."

Cornelius turned his head to look at his parents and Wilbur. His eyes asking, but he wasn't sure what he was asking for. His mother gave him a small smile.

"It's okay, go."

He could only give a nod of his head before he followed the doctor through the door. His parents left in the lobby with his son to wait for his return.

The walk through the E.R. wasn't as long as he thought it would be. He realized that once the doctor ushered him through an opened door his wife had only been fifty-six paces away from him the whole time. The doctor left him to stand in the doorway before she headed back down the hall to do something he cared not to know. His eyes scanned the room before him. The lights dimmer than those in the lobby, but when his eyes locked on the only occupied bed he could see, he saw nothing else.

His wife was laid in a hospital E.R. bed; motionless. A trauma nurse was by her bedside holding an Ambu bag in her hands which she squeezed in equal beats. The bag was connected to a clear tube that was down Franny's throat. His footsteps were hesitant, but he slowly made his way closer to his wife. He took notice of the neck brace around her throat that forced Franny's neck to stretch out and remain still. He got closer to the bedside, and he saw that Franny's dress had been cut open to reveal her blood-stained bra and torso. Packed over where the bullet had entered her body were several bloodied gazes. He didn't get to look at them long because the trauma nurse finished covering her exposed chest with deep blue cloths.

He finally reached the foot of the bed. Her whole body look so delicate as she laid there. Bruised and abused, but still so tiny and he couldn't help the swell that filled his chest. She was hooked up to so many machines. IV line in the crook of her elbow. The different monitors displayed her heartrate. Blood pressure. He nearly fell to his knees when he got to the side of her bed that he had to grab onto the railing. With built up tears, he looked at his wife. Her skin looked so pale. So gray that the bruises on her face stood out more than they had before. Her lips crapped and nearly white from the amount of blood she had lost. Her once shiny, dark ebony hair was now a dull, disarray on the white pillow. Knotted and frizzed.

Cornelius couldn't hold it back any longer. His hand reach between the bed rail to grab her pale hand within his own. Her skin was cold underneath his warmth, but he didn't care. Even with the bruises, the pale skin, and the blood that dried to her skin, Cornelius saw the beauty of his wife once more before his eyes. Her eyes had remained closed even when he grabbed her small hand.

"Hey." He managed to croak out. "I'm here, Franny, I'm here."

Her body came to life at the sound of his voice. Her eyes fluttered open just barely to look at him, but she couldn't turn her head in his direction because of the brace and the tube down her throat. His heart broke a bit more at watching her struggle to look at him. He struggled to keep it from breaking even more when he felt her try to squeeze his hand. He released a forced sigh to keep himself together in front of her. She didn't need to see him weak at the time she needed him to be strong for her.

"Wilbur," he paused to give her a small smile, "Wilbur is okay. He is…" Cornelius watched her eyes fight to stay open enough to see him. "He's here with Lucille and Bud." His breathing became forced while the sob threatened to escape him. "We're all here, Love."

He hadn't noticed his hands started to shake until he reached up to brush the hair away from her forehead. Sweat coated her forehead and the hair that had stuck to it, but he didn't care. He only cared about making her reassured that she was not alone. His palm rested on the top of her head, thumb on her forehead, and it rubbed over the skin to sooth her. He watched her eyes flutter closed and a long sigh leave her chest from his motion. He had made her relax and that made a smile appear on his lips. He continued to rub his thumb over her forehead until he was forced to leave her by the doctor. He watched more nurses get her ready to take her away as the female doctor pulled him back down the hall; much to his displeasure. Back to the waiting room. She opened the door for him and Cornelius stepped through.

Immediately, his parents and Wilbur got up from their seat with anxious looks on their faces. They all stepped up to each other, and Cornelius rubbed his palms over his pants. Wilbur played with his fingers and was biting into his lower lip that was split from him pulling the skin. His parents had their arms wrapped around each other to offer comfort to the other. All three of them had the same question in their eyes.

" _How is she?"_

Cornelius wasn't sure how to answer it right, so he just allowed whatever words popped up first to leave his mouth. "So, um, she's…Franny is, doing well." His eyes traveled to each of them until he locked his gaze on his son, who needed to be reassured the most. "She has…your mother has opened her eyes and I, she, Franny is going to be okay." His words stuttered upon themselves as he tried to make them believe that it wasn't as bad as they heard earlier. Cornelius looked to his parents before he spoke again. "They are taking her up to imaging right now, so the doctor asked that we move to the fourth-floor waiting lobby for the results."

"Excuse me." A male voice behind him nearly interrupted Cornelius' sentence before he could finish speaking it to his family. "We need to finish getting the rest of Mrs. Robinson's insurance information before you leave."

Cornelius spun on the male and gave a glare that made the man nearly stumble back. "Do I have to give that to you right now?!" He snapped. The moment he spoke, he regretted how harsh he sounded.

The male seemed to understand, and gave an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Mr. Robinson, but we need to get this form filled out."

Cornelius heaved another sigh. "You guys go on ahead. I'll meet you in the lobby after." He saw his mother give a nob before she pulled Wilbur out of the room. He ran a hand through his hair before he stepped up to the desk.

* * *

 **W** hen he stepped through the doorway, he saw his parents sat together, Lucille's head in Buds neck; eyes closed. His arm wrapped around her shoulder to hold her to him. Wilbur sat, slumped, in a chair some little ways from them. He thought about finding a chair to sit in far enough away from each of them, but then he ended up sitting down in the chair next to his son. He clasped his hands between his legs and stared at the carpet. They sat there with the awkward silence that bathed them until Cornelius sat up straight, reached over, and clasped one of his son's hands within his own.

"It's not your fault, Wilbur." Cornelius turned his head to speak to him. "None of this is your fault, you hear me? You couldn't have predicted nor prevented this from happening." Wilbur didn't move to look at him. He only allowed a steady flow of tears fall over his lashes. "If you want to blame anyone, it should be me. It is my job to protect you and your mother. I have failed to do so, and because of that she has ended up here."

Wilbur's sudden jump from the chair startled Cornelius. His sore, blue eyes widened behind his glasses. He watched his son tense every muscle inside his tall, but thin body just seconds after he stood. His fingers curled to fists at his sides. His shoulders rose from anger nearly to the tips of his ears. His arms visibly shook. His brown eyes snapped to his direction.

"You're right, dad." Wilbur hissed. "This _is_ all _your_ fault!"

The lobby in which they sat grew silent except for the harsh breath of his son.

"If it wasn't for your job, a job that has many, many dangers, my mom wouldn't even be here. If you didn't have the job you do then that accident would have never happened! If you had taken extra caution to ensure safety, Everett never would have gotten hurt!" More tears pricked at Wilbur's eyes, but these tears where made from the anger that coursed through his frame. They built up against the rim of his lashes, but not one fell down his red cheeks. "He would never have cause to seek revenge on you, he never would have gotten to mom, and he never would have hurt her. There wouldn't have been reason for him to lay a hand on her!" There had been more power in his tone for the last sentence than any other before it.

Cornelius sat in his chair, frozen in the same position he had been when Wilbur got up from his own, and just listened to the words his son spat at him. He didn't try to interrupt. He didn't lift a finger. He didn't open his mouth. Cornelius simply sat there in the uncomfortable lobby chair and took in each blow his son shot in his direction. Cornelius could see the anger that had been inside Wilbur for the past few days finally explode. All the hurt. All the betrayal. Everything he held back inside himself was finally released. And Cornelius knew that Wilbur didn't truly blame him for this, even if Cornelius blamed himself, but Wilbur was so hurt and broken that he was taking his anger out on the easiest person to blame. Even though they both knew Everett deserved it more than anyone else, but Wilbur was blinded by his shattered heart that logic, common sense didn't matter.

A sudden finger was pushed in his face that took his mind out to focus back on Wilbur. Cornelius swallowed the lump that clogged his throat before Wilbur took another breath.

"And now," Wilbur pushed himself to stand before him, his chest out, finger in his face, and stood tall to tower over Cornelius, "thanks to you, my mom is in there fighting for her life! Fighting to stay alive!"

"Wilbur!" A surprised voice behind Cornelius spoke just a breath after Wilbur finished. "That is enough."

Cornelius watched his son twist his body around so he got a clear view of his back. "If my mom dies, if she loses the battle she has fought so hard to win against Everett, if she doesn't make it," Wilbur turned his head to the side to look at him from over his shoulder, "I will _never_ forgive you for it. I will _hate_ you forever."

A wrinkled hand touched Wilbur's back, Cornelius was surprised to see his mother beside them, to push Wilbur along; away from Cornelius. "Just walk away, Wilbur. Go cool off."

Cornelius watched his son stomp out of the lobby, a few seconds after he was gone, before he turned his attention to his mother. Her face showed nothing but painful sorrow. Her eyes tried to give off hope and reassurance, but the red, puffiness over powered. Her body moved to sit in the chair next to him with a comfort hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure he didn't truly mean that, Cornelius. Wilbur…Wilbur's just scared and is lashing out at anyone to get all his feelings let out."

Cornelius slumped forward in his chair to put his hands on his face. His body heaved a heavy sigh from the stress surging through him. "Yeah, I know, mom. He needs someone to blame. I'm the easiest target because in his mind I'm supposed to be the one to prevent any harm from befalling his mother. To him, I failed, and now his anger is directed at me but it doesn't make it hurt any less knowing the real reason behind it."

The hand she had on his shoulder slipped down to his back to rub up and down slowly. "Once Wilbur has had time to cool down, he will realize what he's done and will tell you he didn't mean it."

Cornelius turned his head to the side so his eyes could look at her. His hands still pressed into his face. "Yes. This isn't the first-time Wilbur has lost his temper with me, mom." His hands rubbed down his face to try to wipe away the physical emotions on his face. "I can handle his tantrums. What I can't handle is having to deal with his tantrums, not knowing what is happening with Everett, and playing the waiting game on learning what is happening with Franny, whether she is gonna be okay, all at one time. It's all too much to hold inside."

Lucille looked at Cornelius with lowered brows in confusion. "I thought you said she was going to be okay? You said, she was doing alright."

Cornelius scoffed before a tear fell down his cheek. "I said that so Wilbur wouldn't have more to deal with." Cornelius started to laugh with more tears leaking from his lashes. He saw Lucille look at him with surprise. "How could she possibly be doing alright? She has been shot!" He started to laugh a little louder. "She has…a bullet in her body. When I saw her…she was so pale, so helpless, lying in that bed." Breathing became harder for him from the tightness that started in his chest. "Do you know what that feels like, to see the person you are supposed to protect and not be able to do a damn thing to help them? That's how I feel. It's how I've felt since this whole thing started. Now, I'm stuck waiting here for news on her condition because there is nothing I can do." His laughter continued from the stress of everything and he couldn't stop.

"Cornelius…I know that-"

"I really don't need a pep talk right now, mom. I can't handle you trying to tell me everything will be okay. That she will be okay because you don't know that." Cornelius didn't look over to know his mother had gotten up to leave his side, he felt her hand disappear and the presence of her body left as well.

He sat there with his head in his hands.

' _How had this happened? When did I give up all form of hope?'_

He pondered over his own question for what seemed like minutes, but it turned out to be over an hour. The ache in his back, from being hunched over for so long, was what brought him forth from his mind. His hands dropped from his head, his back straightened, and Wilbur stepped back inside the lobby with his mother after Cornelius had stood up with a turn from the chair. Wilbur had his arms crossed and held tightly to his chest.

"Mr. Robinson?" All attention turned to the male voice that disrupted the silence in the room. "Hi, I'm Dr. Valle, I'm the attending surgeon on your wife's case."

Cornelius quickly stepped up to him so there was only a few feet between them. His family members stepped around him. Cornelius tightened his fingers into his palms from the fear of what the doctor would say. "How is she doing?" He hadn't meant for his voice to crack.

The man gave a loud exhale of breath before he spoke; using his hands to make gestures. "Well, the good news is, besides her lung collapsing there are no signs of damage to any of her other vital organs."

He didn't think it was possible, but his body seemed to relax with a loud sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God." As quickly as his body relaxed, it tensed up again the moment he spoke again. "Alright. And, what is the bad news?"

For a split second, the doctor's eyes flicked to Wilbur with concern before they returned to him. "The bullet is lodged near her spine, which is not really a notion for worry. However," he started quickly which didn't allow anyone to relax again, "if any bullet fragments make their way into the spinal canal, there can be a risk of neurological damage, so she's going to need surgery to remove them."

"Damage?" Cornelius widened his eyes. "You mean she could become paralyzed?"

"It is..a possibility."

Wilbur stepped closer to the doctor, Cornelius felt his hands grabbed onto his arm, with swollen eyes. "Can I see her?" Wilbur held so much desperation in his question. The look of hopefulness at the doctor made Cornelius look to the surgeon with question.

"Yeah," he answered then turned back to Cornelius, "but briefly." His tone made it clear that it couldn't be longer than that. "She is in the ICU, so only the immediate family can come back. Okay?" Cornelius nodded his head, but he didn't look to see if his parents did. "I can take you back."

Wilbur continued to hold onto Cornelius' arm when they took a few steps to follow the surgeon. He halted his feet to turn his attention to his son. His free arm reached over so he could cover his son's hands with his own. "Uh, Wilbur, your mom," he swallowed another lump, "she has a tube down her throat." He saw the panic swim into his eyes. "I know it sounds scary, and it might look scary, but it is there to help her breath, alright?"

His son could only nod his head.

Cornelius didn't take much notice of the walk through the hospital halls to get to the ICU where his wife was. He only noticed the grip of his son's hands on his arm. So, when the surgeon waved them into the room she stayed in, Cornelius finally noticed more of his surrounding the moment his eyes landed on Franny. Wilbur's grip got tighter with a deep inhaul of breath through his parted lips. Both father and son stood in the doorway; frozen.

Franny's body looked even tinier in the new bed than it did in the ER bed. Her body was propped up slightly and a fresh pillow behind her head. Her hair was tucked behind her neck and shoulders. A tube down her throat with tape around it to keep it still. The neck brace, he noted, was gone. The ripped, torn open, bloody dress she had worn was replaced with a pale blue hospital gown. A pressure cuff around her right arm had just finished getting her latest blood pressure read when they entered. Her thin index finger was covered by a clip that read her oxygen intake. The IV line still in the crock of her left elbow. Wires pressed to her chest under the gown to read her heart. Provided blankets covered her lower body up to her stomach.

The exam of his wife over, Cornelius slowly pulled both himself and Wilbur over to her bedside. His free hand went straight to grab ahold of her right forearm with a gentle grip. Wilbur continued to hold onto him, which he didn't mind, while he looked at his mother. Pale skinned and eyes closed. She didn't even move when Cornelius touched her.

"Honey," his voice no louder than a whisper so he wouldn't startle her, "we're here. Right here." Cornelius looked to his son for but a moment. "Wilbur and I are here. Mom and Dad are waiting in the lobby, but we're here. I'm here, sweetheart."

Franny didn't move. Her eyes didn't flutter. She remained still in the bed. Cornelius moved his hand to wrap her dainty one within his large, rougher one.

"You, you are doing so well, Franny. Please, don't give up. We love you so very much and want you to pull through."

Wilbur removed one of his hands from Cornelius' arm to place it in Franny's hand, the same as his own, as well. Cornelius felt Wilbur give his mother's cold hand a gentle squeeze. Cornelius, reluctantly, released Franny's hand to use that arm to pull his son into his body tighter. He pressed a kiss to the side of his head before gently started them out of the room.

His parents looked at them the moment they walked back through the door. Cornelius held his son by both shoulders in front of him.

"Mom, dad, I want you to take Wilbur home so you all can get some sleep."

Wilbur turned his head to look at his dad with pleaded eyes. "No. I want to stay here with you so mom won't think I don't care."

Cornelius looked into his son's eyes. "I know, Wilbur, but I don't know how long it will take until they take her into surgery. I will call the moment I know they are taking her. I promise. But right now, there is no point for you to stay here. Go home with your grandparents, get some sleep."

Wilbur gave a nod of his head. Lucille wrapped an arm around his shoulders to lead him out of the lobby. Bud followed beside Lucille.

"And they are in charge, Wilbur." Cornelius added just as they walked through the threshold to the hall.

They were gone.

The moment his family disappeared, and he was sure they were far enough away, he fell to his knees and sobbed his despair into the empty room.

* * *

 **I** t was early morning when he was informed that they were taking Franny into surgery. That was three hours ago. His parents had brought Wilbur back up to the hospital, Carl tagged along and to his surprise Gaston and Art trudged through the door behind them all, with a fresh pair of clothes for him in a bag his mother held.

So there they all sat, Cornelius in his fresh pair of clothes, Wilbur beside him, left to wait for an update.

"Did they tell you how long our baby sister was going to be in surgery for?" Gaston asked from a chair along the wall to his left.

Cornelius rubbed his hand against the arm of the chair. His focus turned to him to answer. "They weren't sure how long it would take."

The room fell silent again. Each family member sat in their own chair, in their own position, while they anxiously waited for Franny to be finished.

"Did you eat anything, Cornelius?" His mother asked him from the chair behind him.

He shook his head. "I had coffee this morning." Honestly, his stomach was too busy flipping to eat anything.

Everyone fell silent again. He waited for someone else to ask him another question, but after minutes no one else spoke. His foot started to get restless on the floor then a bit later it was his leg that started to bounce on his toes.

' _Three hours. Three hours and still nothing. How long did it take for them to remove fragments?'_ He looked at the clock again to see the time. With a silent sigh, he looked to the floor again. Having lost count how many times that made of him looking at that clock. _'It shouldn't take this long. They should have been done by now. Is it taking so long because something went wrong? Are they having complications? Is she dying?!'_

Cornelius instantly shot up from his seat and made his way over to the provided coffee containers. His body was tense from fear. His shaky hands pulled a paper cup from the stack, filled it with hot coffee then placed the black lid over the rim. With a hand on his hip, he took a sip. It tasted terrible, just like his first cup earlier, but he drank it anyway.

Cornelius desperately needed a distraction. The horrid tasting coffee gave him that distraction. He nearly chocked on it when the surgeon from earlier walked through the door. He had to press his hand over his mouth to keep the liquid in and not onto the floor. His eyes met the doctors.

They both just stared at each other.

' _Say something.'_

The tick of the clock became louder in his ears while he waited for the surgeon to speak.

' _Why isn't he saying anything?'_

Cornelius tightened his grip on the empty paper cup still in his hand.

' _Just say it. Just say she didn't make it and get it over with.'_ He pleaded.

"We were able to get all the bullet fragments." Cornelius finally breathed. He came to realize that it hadn't taken the surgeon that long to speak, but that his mind was so tired it had seemed like it did.

"You didn't remove the bullet?" Art spoke up.

"It could have been more harmful to take it out than to leave it in." He replied to Art's question.

Cornelius remained in his spot he had been when the surgeon entered the room. His eyes studied the man closely, and he realized that he didn't say whether she was alright or not. The tone of his voice was off. His eyes held sorrow, Cornelius saw it even through the mask he put on.

"What aren't you telling us?" Cornelius demanded.

The surgeon turned his eyes to him, as did each family member. "During the surgery, Mrs. Robinsons brain started to swell." Cornelius held his breath again. "Before we took her in, we didn't know that her brain was already swelling until it caused a big enough problem in the OR."

"What?" Gaston's voice asked in fear. "Why is her brain swelling?"

The surgeon held Cornelius' gaze. He could feel his heart hurt in his chest. _'Please…no.'_

"She has a wound on her forehead, where it looks like something struck her or she hit it hard enough to cause trauma to her brain. The swelling wasn't bad when she was brought in and it shouldn't have caused any problems. It would have resolved on its own,"

"But," Cornelius breathed.

"But, the stress of the surgery caused the brain to swell more than it had. The fluid pushed up against her skull, which caused her brain to push down on the brain stem. Because her brain is pushing up against the stem it has caused damage to the RAS."

"What is that?" Gaston nearly chocked on his words. A sob clearly about to break through his body.

"Reticular Activating System. A part of the brain that's responsible for arousal and awareness." The surgeon explained. "When we took her off bypass,"

Cornelius grabbed the edge of the table that held the coffee. His knees shook too much to hold his body up.

"She hasn't woken up, and we've waited an hour to see if she would, but she has not opened her eyes."

"You're saying that Franny is in a coma?" Cornelius asked. He already knew the answer, but he wanted the doctor to say it.

"I'm afraid she is, Mr. Robinson. We are hopeful that her brain will work to heal itself and make the swelling reduce, but we are worried about how long Mrs. Robinson will be in the coma. We are going to monitor her for the next seventy-two hours to see how her brain is doing and hope she wakes up."

"What happens if it takes longer than seventy-two hours?" Art piped up.

The surgeon returned his attention to Cornelius. "There is a possibility she might not wake up."

No one moved. No one breathed. Everyone in that lobby stared at the surgeon with frozen fear at what he just said.

The only noise that was hear was the drop of the cup Cornelius let slip from his fingers.


	59. Epilogue

_Nav: I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter. Hope you enjoy this one as well._

 **Make sure to read the Author's note at the bottom!**

* * *

Epilogue: A Dream

 **T** here had been so much noise around her, but Franny could not understand what any of the noise was. To her the noises blended together like blobbed paint to create one loud sound that was unrecognizable. A large part of it, after a few moments, she realized was because her ears rang at a pitch that could make anyone fall to their knees in agony. The commotion around her buzzed on while she laid motionless to the agonizing pain the noise caused her head. She begged it to stop. She wanted it to stop, no, needed it to stop. The high-pitched ring made her skull feel like it was about to split in half.

' _Cornelius.'_

Where was her husband? He had been there, wrapped in his arms, just moments ago and now he was nowhere near her. Why had he left her when they had just found each other again?

Franny opened her eyes to try and locate her husbands, but grave disappointment circled her heart. Her eyes saw nothing but darkness. She wasn't sure if her lids had opened until she blinked a few times to make sure. She was surrounded by darkness and was all alone.

The most unimaginable pain swept her body up in its clutches and tightened its hold. Her skin grew hot until it burned as though it had caught fire. It had started in her lower chest until it spread out to consume her entire being. She felt as though she couldn't breathe. Her chest constricted until it was painful. Her throat clogged with a thick lump that prevented her to scream. Her mind raced with fear. Her begs became pleas for mercy to be granted to her. She wanted someone to put the fire out. Her mind, briefly, wondered why anyone would allow her to be swallowed up by flames. Why she was left to burn a slow and torturous death. Her skin felt like it was melting from the heat that only grew.

' _Cornelius.'_

Her cries of mercy were ignored. The pain from the fire wasn't enough. Her skin was poked and pecked at by thousands of needles. She forced her eyes to open again to see if her vision allowed sight. It was no longer darkness, but blinded light distorted like a fogged mirror. Her skin throbbed from the attack of continuous pokes that felt like crow's feet slicing her apart. She wanted to jerk her body away, to make it stop, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't get herself to move. Her screams became ones of murder. Through her screams of pure torture and the force that kept her immobile, Franny fought to save herself from the unpleasant horror since no one else would. She tried to thrash around in hope of freeing herself from the force that held her down, but the more she struggled the harder the force grew to keep her still. She felt like she should be crying tears of anger but she felt no wetness on her cheeks. Through her hysteria, she could hear muffled noise. The noise was unlike the ones she heard before, that noise was different. The noise she heard then wasn't noise at all, it was voices that spoke rather quickly. For the life of her she could not distinguish what they were saying.

' _Cornelius!'_

As quickly as every ounce of pain washed over her body, it all stopped like someone had slammed on the breaks. Everything grew quiet. Part of her was scared to open her eyes again, in fear of the pain starting up again if she were to open the lids. She forced herself to remain still. Her breath entered her lips in painfully slow intakes and released in quite exhales. Franny felt nothing as the quite continued to surround her. She was positive that if a feather was to hit the floor she would hear it brush against the ground. After a short time of silence, Franny bent her fingers to feel what was beneath her. Something smooth made her finger pads tingle.

Franny snapped her eyes open and sat up so her back was straight in a ninety-degree angle on the object her body rested upon. What her no longer fogged sight saw was nothing short of shocking.

Her body was placed upon a plush, full sized bed. A plain, white comforter was folded half-way down the mattress which reviled the pastel green sheets beneath her fingers. Near her bare feet, in the right corner of the bed, rested against the footboard was a few decorative pillows and a stuffed frog. The same frog she gave to Wilbur the moment he was born. What was it doing there? Her eyes lifted from the bed to look about the rest of her surroundings.

Across from the bed, on the opposite wall, was a gap in the wall where the closet was placed. Curtains, a shade darker than the sheets, swathed over the opening; placed behind silver leaf drapery on either side. Next to the opening was a tall chest of drawers made from dark wood. Picture frames and books occupied the top of the dresser. Along the wall to her left was a vanity table, made from the same wood as the dresser, with a stool placed before it. A mirror placed along the back of it that showed herself in the reflection. The top held jewelry, hairbrush, and other little trinkets. An end table was placed on both sides of the bed. Each held a matched lamp in the corner. The table next to her, on the left, held a frame with a picture of her and Cornelius at his sixteenth birthday dinner.

Confused with fear, Franny scrambled herself off the bed, nearly connecting with the floor, to stand in the middle of the bedroom she had as a child. Her eyes found the wall, that her headboard touched, to spot the music staff and notes she had painted when she was a young teen. The two windows that allowed light into her room were covered by sheer curtains that matched the ones over the closet entryway. The ceiling fan above her head rotated slowly.

She was amazed that everything she remember was there in her childhood bedroom. Every book, picture, and keepsake was in the exact spot it had been before it had all been packed up. Her bare feet moved her over to the vanity table where she kept her jewelry, hair brush and make-up to look for the one thing she hoped was there. It was. Her shaky fingers reached out to brush against the old fashioned, crystal perfume bottle that had been given to her by her mother. Which had been passed down to her by her grandmother and her mother before her. She wrapped it up in her hand to bring it to her chest. She cradled it in both hands to have it close.

A sudden noise from beyond the opened door made her startle and snap her head in its direction. She quickly placed the bottle back on the table and made her way through the door. Her steps were cautious while they moved her down the hall. She pressed her back against the wall near the entryway to the first archway of the hall. The hall that held a bathroom and the bedroom for her and her two brothers. The other archway across from Gaston's childhood bedroom. The fireplace mantle on the other side of the wall between the two archways. Franny hear the jingle of keys from somewhere beyond the wall she was pressed against.

' _Had it all been a dream?'_ Franny wondered. _'Wilbur had never found me and Cornelius hadn't had his arms wrapped around me in a safe embrace. I had dreamed it all. I must have. I'm back in the house Everett had kept me in. My childhood home. The home my mother had fallen in love with.'_ Franny bit down on her bottom lip. _'Where was Everett then? Was he the one who was making that jingle?'_

Franny took a deep breath, readying herself for a fight against him.

When she rounded the corner, her breath was stolen from her breast. The person who stood in the family room was not who she was expecting. As if in a daze, her feet carried her across the room until she was across from the person who stood watching her with a bright smile. Franny took in the attire they wore. Dark jeans that hugged their legs. A deep blue blouse that flowed from the tiniest movement. Black sandals covered pale feet with red painted toes. A purse on a shoulder. Keys in their hands. The warmth of their brown eyes watched her the entire time.

"I'm heading to work, darling." Their voice sounded just like she last remembered. "I shall be back this afternoon. Then we can talk." A hand tucked light brown hair behind their ear.

Franny gasped in air of disbelief. "Mom?"

* * *

 **And that is the end of this story. Now before you hate me and come after me with fire...**

 **I took notice at how long this story was becoming. The last chapter with the hospital and Franny's condition took a totally different turn from what I had planned when ideas came into my head, so this is the last chapter of** _'A Race Against Time'_ **. I already have the next book planned out. I will post the first chapter of it if you guys are interested to read it. Please let me know! I'm pretty sure you guys would like to know what all happens in the next part.** **  
**

 **If some are interested to read the next story the title will be '** _Frozen in Time'_ **when I post it.** **  
**

 **Let me know what you guys thought of this last chapter and if I should start the next. You guys are the best!  
**


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